Life After the Happy Ending
by giantzacface
Summary: High school was great but what happens next defines the rest of your life. This is life after the Disney movie happy ending. Troypay
1. One Day Down

**Disclaimer: I still don't own High School Musical. If I did the movie would have ended a little differently.**

Life After the Happy Ending

One Day Down

Sharpay pulled into the last open parking spot and cut the engine immediately killing the music and engulfing her in overwhelming silence. Taking a moment to gaze pensively through the windshield watching all the distant students as they strolled by with relaxed smiles on their faces and schedules in their hands. Yanking her rear-view mirror so that she saw her own reflection she took a deep breath and studied the nervous creases between her eyebrows. Closing her eyes Sharpay counted to ten and forcibly relaxed every muscle in her body so that when she opened her eyes the creases were gone and a fake but pleasant smile was painted on her face.

With a sigh Sharpay opened up her notebook that had been sitting in the passenger seat and pulled out her own schedule to study it once more as she quickly checked the time. Not wanting to be late for her first university course, she hastily shoved her notebook into her hot pink Louis Vuitton bag, placed her Coco Chanel sunglasses on top of her head and stepped out of her Convertible onto her Christian Louboutin heals. Slamming the door closed, she smirked her traditional smirk and looked around to acknowledge with condescension all who were visibly gawking.

But nobody had taken any notice of her.

With a slight pout Sharpay stomped her foot in frustration and strutted to her first class ignoring the fact that she was alone for the first time in her life.

After the final events of her senior year with Ryan beating her for the scholarship and Tiara sabotaging her final performance, Sharpay took a lot of time to reexamine her position along her path to success. Sure, she was disappointed that she wasn't at Julliard but Ryan certainly deserved to go. And, yeah, she always wanted the roles that Gabriella got but Gabriella had been pretty decent at them too.

Ok, nope, that's just taking it too far. She definitely deserved those roles.

Anyway, she certainly didn't regret anything from high school (except maybe befriending Tiara, that is) but she had decided that college was going to be a new beginning. A time of excellence in her life and her career. She wasn't going to obsess over the little things and she was definitely going to take everybody around her a tad more seriously now that she knows competition can arise from the most unlikely of people.

It is for this reason that Sharpay strutted into her class fifteen minutes early, sat in the front seat and pulled out an actual notebook and pen. All with a nervous smile clouding her beautiful features and causing her to fidget in her seat.

* * *

_BEEP…BEEP…_

Troy heard his alarm though the grogginess that accompanies sleep. Exhausted and unwilling to wake up just yet he was about to pick up his alarm and throw it across the room but remembered that he has a roommate now. A stranger living within the same ten-by-eight cell of cinder blocks as him. It may not be the best way to break the ice between them if he introduced himself by smashing his alarm into hundreds of pieces.

Reluctantly, Troy pressed the off button and sat up in bed, rigorously rubbing his eyes hoping to wake up his brain along with it.

And here it is: the first day of college. Well, of classes, anyway. Unlike his roommate who had just arrived last night, Troy had already been there a week for a special basketball team freshmen introduction program. It was basically a week of intense practice and hazing by the seniors. Not exactly Troy's definition of fun but traditions must be maintained.

Getting up, Troy tried his best to find his things in the dark making as little noise as possible. Whoever convinced him that 8:30 classes were a good idea was really in for it.

Beep, beep, beep.

Troy started at the unexpected noise. He thought he'd turned off his alarm already. But then he saw the light on his phone flash and he quickly realized that he'd just gotten a text. Reading the display and seeing that it was from Gabriella he grabbed it and flipped open to read what she said.

_You up yet?_

Troy smiled at the fact that his girlfriend still cares from 40 miles away and that she remembered his schedule. _He_ barely even knew his schedule yet.

He hastily typed back _'sure, no problem'_ then grabbed his clothes and headed to the bathroom to get ready, no longer tired.

* * *

"So my friend and I were at this party yesterday, we go so drunk! I think we might have made out at one point in the evening."

"I am so good at beer pong, it's my favorite game ever."

"Hey man, you coming to my party Friday? We already have so much booze, just gotta hope it lasts till then."

Sharpay rolled her eyes as she was forced to listen to the inane conversations taking place behind her. _'Yes, we drink alcohol at parties. There's breaking news.'_ She thought sarcastically. She thought this was such a high school way to talk about drinking but as it turns out there's only one summer separating a high school senior from a college freshman.

Resisting the urge to moan in exasperation, Sharpay remained facing forward waiting for class to start as the clock slowly approached noon and her professor finally strode confidently through the door and to the front of the room. Straightening in her seat, Sharpay smiled slightly, excited to begin her first serious venture into university life and higher education. She was finally ready to participate in voluntarily lively debates with her cohorts, to eat lunch with a new group of friends under the changing fall leaves discussing important political matters and ethical dilemmas. She was ready, for the first time in her life, to become a serious student.

Placing his briefcase on the desk at the front of the classroom and shuffling his loose leaf papers around until he found the ones he needed, the professor looked up at the class for the first time with a bright smile on his face.

"Good afternoon class!" he said in an annoyingly chipper voice. The kind of voice that old Sharpay would have cringed at and made fun of outside (and let's face it, sometimes inside) the classroom. _'But not new Sharpay,'_ she thought, struggling to keep her pleasant expression on her face, reminding herself that she was here to take this seriously.

"Welcome to death and dying, one of your theme requirements. I'm professor Frey," he continued, smiling through his nose as he spoke. "Now, as a general requirement I know this class isn't in the field of many of your majors but I do expect the same level of commitment and effort. And don't worry, we'll be having some fun too!" He continued to beam at the class, Sharpay returning in kind.

"We'll be discussing the ways in which different cultures around the world cope with and view death and dying. We'll be debating the merits of different viewpoints and I do expect everybody in here to be able to form and express an opinion."

By this point Sharpay was bobbing in her seat, her excitement rendering her incapable of holding still.

"But first, let's play the name game!"

Sharpay immediately stopped bouncing, her smile fell from her face and she glared at her professor in disbelief.

"You have _got_ to be kidding me."

* * *

Troy dumped his bags onto the last available table in the student union and slumped into his seat. It was only two o'clock but he was already exhausted. Not that his classes were that taxing, on the first day they just go over the syllabus, but he was simply worn out. Troy would never admit this out loud but he was scared as hell to be going to Berkeley. He was a thousand miles away from home for the first time in his life. In a life where he didn't even go to basketball practice without his dad being present. Even summer camps he had a parent along with him.

Add to that the simple fearful anticipation of college. Troy had never been the best of students but he was no longer in an environment that would accept his excuses. What if it was too hard?

And then there is the basketball. Usually the stress reliever of his life, his Zen, his escape. But even this had stress printed all over it. All his life Troy had been the basketball prodigy, the coaches son. It had all come naturally, easily. But all of a sudden he was no longer the best and that is a situation that Troy had never anticipated and he certainly didn't know how to deal with it.

So, for the time being, Troy was perfectly content with burying his feelings, working through the stress and avoid going to his dorm because that was just one more area of mystery and stress that he wasn't ready to face.

Instead, Troy took a deep breath, pulled out his phone and gazed contentedly at the screens picture. It was of him and Gabriella the day he'd moved in. She'd come down to help him move then took him for a relaxing picnic in the campus arboretum. They looked so happy in that picture, so carefree, so normal. Hard to believe that had only been a week ago.

* * *

"What about if I took a crack at writing the musical, Ms. Darbus? I have composed before, you know." Sharpay suggested nonchalantly, following closely behind her former teacher as she strode swiftly down the hallway.

As always there were huge banners and larger-than-life posters of the basketball team decorating the hallways but Sharpay was slightly perturbed by the fact that the features of these signs were no longer Troy, Chad, Zeke or Jason. In just a couple of months this school had already forgotten her entire senior class.

"You?" Ms. Darbus asked skeptically, slowing to a stop and turning to face Sharpay. "Compose? How come I never knew about this?"

Sharpay smiled through her embarrassment, "Well, I never showed anybody. Ryan doesn't even know." Ms. Darbus raised her eyebrows questioningly. "But that doesn't mean I'm not good. I can totally do this Ms. D. Please? Just give me a chance."

After a moments silence, Ms. Darbus lowered her eyebrows and fixed Sharpay with a steady gaze. "Have a rough draft of the first act on my desk by Monday." Without another word she turned and continued down the hallway leaving Sharpay grinning with excitement despite the anxious nerves that were collecting in the pit of her stomach.

* * *

Closing his textbook with a tired sigh, Troy drained the last few drops of his coffee and looked around. He was the last person left in the student union.

"Hey, we close in ten minutes."

Troy jumped at the harsh voice of the Janitor cutting through the silence. Looking at his watch, Troy was shocked to see that it was almost midnight. "Ok, I'm leaving," he grumbled, not sure if the Janitor was even still there. Quickly shoving his books into his bag, he headed outside into the humid night air. He'd somehow managed to avoid going to his dorm at all today. That can't be healthy.

Troy kicked a pebble in frustration, slowly making his way to the dorm when his phone started ringing. Looking at the screen he couldn't help the smile that instantly spread across his gloomy face.

"Gabriella, hey! How was your first day?"

"It was absolutely posolotutely the bestest day ever!" she screamed into the receiver barely able to control her giggling amongst her stumbling words.

"Poso-what?"

"Oh my Gawd, Troy! College is so much fun, you should try it!"

"Gabriella? Have you been drinking?" Troy asked in amazement, completely bowled over at the thought of Gabriella doing anything illegal.

"Nooo," she replied in a fake, high pitched tone. "But this jungle juice is a whole lot better after the sixth glass."

Troy chuckled. "Yeah, I bet it is. You be careful, Gabby. I gotta go."

"Fine. I miss you Troysie!" Gabriella gushed.

"Yeah. I miss you too."

Troy hung up his phone just as he was taking the last few steps to his dorm room door. Putting the key in the lock, he slowly opened the door to find the room plunged in darkness except for the illumination of Zim Avatar on the television.

"Dude! Close the door! You trying to get me expelled or something?"

"Sorry," Troy mumbled, quickly stumbling over a soft, wet object at his feet as he entered his funny smelling room, a smell that wasn't there this morning, and closed the door. What was that wet thing? Troy looked down just as his roommate strolled over and shoved the wet, rolled up towel back into the crack beneath the door.

"Don't want the R.A. to find out, do we?"

"Find out what?" But as he was asking it, Troy finally put the pieces together. The funny smell, the towel blocking the air flow, the redness of his roommates eyes. But this can't be happening, if Troy is associated with this he'll lose his place on the basketball team. Which means he'll lose his scholarship. Which means he has to move back home and make his life decision all over again.

Completely caught off guard, Troy just continued to stand in the entrance of their room, clutching his book bag in his hands and staring at his roommate. His roommate, on the other hand, was now lying on his bed with his head hanging off the side so that he was watching the television upside down, holding a crudely rolled joint between his thumb and index finger and giggling as the colors on the TV changed.

"Hey man. Didn't mean to be rude," he said looking over at Troy with his bloodshot eyes. "You want a hit?"

Troy stared at the marijuana that his roommate was holding out to him with mild horror and could only think one thing:

'_Oh shit.'_

* * *

Sharpay sprinted from her car into her house, up the expansive staircase and directly to her room, not even bothering to find her mother and tell her that she was home. Pulling out her cell phone from her purse, Sharpay excitedly dialed Ryan's number and tried to control her breathing as she counted the rings.

One….Two…

Breath in, breath out.

Five…Six…

"_Hey guys, you've called Ryan. I'm doing something more interesting right now so leave a message and I'll ring you later. Peace."_

Sharpay scoffed at his new voicemail message. He's certainly gotten an ego since he went off to Julliard. Not that she was jealous, of course. Waiting for the beep, Sharpay shoved these negative thoughts to the back of her mind and instead remembered why she was calling her brother in the first place.

"Hey Ryan! It's been a couple day's, I wanted to check in. See how Julliard was going. And I have major exciting news to tell you. Call me back as soon as you get this. Toodles."

Hanging up, Sharpay sat on her bed clutching her phone in her hand and savoring the silence. One day down, just the rest of her life to go.

* * *

**So I'm finally out with another story! It feels good to be writing again. I had a whole bunch of different story ideas that I was debating doing but after seeing the movie I decided this was going to be it. High school is hardly your whole life.**

**Please leave me a review, whether good or bad. I always like to read your comments.**


	2. Silent Echoes

**Disclaimer: I don't own High School Musical**

Silent Echoes

"_Hey guys, you've called Ryan. I'm doing something more interesting right now so leave a message and I'll ring you later. Peace."_

"Hey Ryan! It's been a week and we still haven't talked. You're probably busy with classes and getting to know the city and people and stuff. I just wanted to catch up… See what's going on… Give me a call! Bye!" Sharpay sighed as she hung up the phone and sat back in her chair at the kitchen table, her face immediately falling out of its forced cheeriness. She found that she was unable to fake _sounding_ cheerful without fake _appearing_ cheerful., despite Ryan being unable to see her face.

'_It's understandable that Ryan would be too busy and distracted to answer his phone,'_ she told herself for what seemed to be the hundredth time, believing it less and less every time. Frustrated with Ryan for not answering his phone and angry at herself for needing that connection, Sharpay groaned loudly to release some of her pent up emotion and flopped her head into her crossed arms on top of the table, bumping her nose in the process.

"Ow," she whimpered sadly into the distressed wood of the table, scrunching her nose in pain.

"Morning pumpkin. Were you just on the phone with Ryan? How's he doing?" Mrs. Evans asked as she breezed through the kitchen, her red cashmere robe flying out behind her swiftly moving feet.

"How would I know?" Sharpay grumbled, her head still buried in her arms. "He doesn't answer my calls any more."

Mrs. Evans grabbed two extra-large coffee cups from the tall cupboard and poured some coffee into each. ":I'm sorry, honey. I'm sure it's nothing. His life is just very hectic at the moment. I don't think you should waste one second worrying about it." She replied, trying to sound consoling despite her own uncertainties as she placed one of the mugs on the table next to Sharpay's head.

Raising her head and feigning cheerfulness, just as she did for Ryan's message, and said, "Yeah, I guess you're right."' Unfortunately she could only make the cheer last for that statement as her face fell once more. With a sigh, she grabbed her steaming mug of coffee. "Did I make him mad? I think it might be possible."

Mrs. Evans snorted into her coffee eliciting a very direct glare from her daughter. Pretending to need more creamer, Mrs. Evans quickly turned away from Sharpays fiery eyes and hid behind the refrigerator door.

"Well, whatever it is, he's being a baby about it!" Sharpay finally declared, stomping to her feet with her usual determination and darting out of the room, pleased with her remarkable ability to push her own blame and guilt onto another.

"He sure is," Mrs. Evans mumbled, purely out of habit as she grabbed the newspaper and took a seat at the kitchen table, happy to be left in silence.

* * *

"Come on, Bolton! Get your ass moving. Five more laps around the court! Lets go! GO!"

Troy growled and tried to push his feet to move faster, though he was sure the only thing that had sped up was his heart rate which was already dangerously high.

"Jesus, boy, what is your problem? Do you even want to be on this team?" The coach screamed at him from his position in the center of the court, his eyes watching Troy's every step as he struggled to keep moving. The rest of the team had already finished their laps and were throwing free throws. They were all waiting for Troy to catch up; all grumbling about Troy's inadequacy.

"Bolton, I swear to God, if you don't get moving I'm going to make the entire team join you until you're done!"

That really got the grumblings going, as the team glared in his direction. Troy pushed himself to run faster, unable to breathe, sweat dripping into his eyes. Excruciating pain shot from his feet through his legs to every muscle in his body, all simultaneously begging – screaming – for him to stop. And now he got to hear muted threats from his teammates as he passed each and every one of them.

Counting his remaining laps on his fingers and chanting, "left, right, left, right…" in his head, Troy somehow managed to finish his run and was finally allowed to stop. Unable to get enough air into his lungs, Troy doubled over with shaking legs and fought to take in oxygen. Finally able to slow his panting enough to fill his lungs, Troy gulped down a huge breath of air, instantly going dizzy as his vision clouded. Shit, there's a new one.

Closing his eyes to let the feeling pass, Troy almost couldn't respond to his coaches perpetually angry bark. "BOLTON!"

"Yes, coach," Troy gasped out, putting all his weight back onto his wobbly legs and straightening his stance.

"Grab a ball and join your team. Practice isn't over!"

"Right, coach."

Dropping his head and ignoring his body's protests, Troy jogged over to the basketball caddy and grabbed the last remaining ball. All the while a continuous prayer floated back and forth through his brain: _'Please, let me survive this practice.'_

* * *

"Well, well, well. Good afternoon, Sharpay," Tiara sneered, placing an extra emphasis on the last syllable of Sharpay's name.

"Tiara," Sharpay replied absent-mindedly, not even bothering to look in her direction. It was passing time when Sharpay had arrived at the school to drop off her hopeful attempt at a musical script. More nervous than any time she had been on stage, Sharpay's blood pumped hotly through her veins and her heart raced wildly as all external noise was muffled by the loud buzzing in her ears.

"What's that you've got there?" Tiara asked, refusing to be ignored despite the trouble she was having keeping up behind Sharpay's years of experience stomping around East High on three inch heals.

"Huh? Oh, it's nothing," Sharpay mumbled with a dismissive wave of her hand.

"Right," Tiara drawled disbelieving but still curious. Slowing her pace and breathing heavily from the overexertion of shuffling at Sharpay's pace, Tiara was sure to keep a steady eye focused on Sharpay's back. She was going to figure out what Sharpay was up to and she was going to find a way to make it all about her.

Hardly even noticing that Tiara was no longer with her, Sharpay smiled to herself as she turned the corner and took the last few steps toward Ms. Darbus's classroom. Stopping just outside the door, Sharpay looked down at her first act with a mixture of nerves and excitement. Talk about turning over a new leaf. In High School Sharpay never would have considered becoming a composer, but just look at her now.

Taking a deep breath, Sharpay finally opened the door she'd been standing in front of and stuck her head inside the darkened classroom. "Ms. D?" she asked to the empty space before her. Must be her off period. With a shrug, Sharpay straightened her shoulders and confidently stepped full into the room, her heals clicking in time to her steps as always. Stepping over to Ms. Darbus's cluttered desk, Sharpay laid her crisp, freshly printed copy of her musical on top of all the other papers that were thrown carelessly about and gazed at it's professional appearance. She'd even made a cover page.

As she gazed at her rough draft, Sharpay got lost in thought imagining her musical being performed on Broadway. She, of course, would play the lead, Ryan would have the part of the brother, and she couldn't help but to picture Troy as the romantic interest. Huh, seems she's not quite over that one just yet.

Scowling at this realization and reminding herself once more that she's in college now making a whole new beginning, Sharpay turned on her heal and stomped out of the room in a haze of mental distraction. In fact, she was so wrapped up in her thoughts, she didn't even notice the sequined skirt that fluttered behind a door as she stepped back into the hallway.

* * *

"Bolton!"

Troy heard his name waft slowly into his ears and to his brain as if it were being carried on the with from the top of a mountain, miles and miles away.

"Bolton!"

His name echoed in his head, sliding back and forth, up and down, repeating itself every time it hit his skull and changed directions, like the window's symbol on his computers screen saver.

"Bolton!"

He tried to respond, he knew that's what the voice wanted of him, but he couldn't seem to make his voice own sound. His neck muscles clenched as though they could make him answer by force but, still, nothing came out.

Finally, Troy jerked awake from the thunk of the whiteboard marker hitting his head, his neck muscles were painfully tensed, sending shooting pains down his spine.

"Bolton!" Troy's professor barked from the front of the classroom, his white beard remarkably pronounced in contrast to his bright red face.

"Yes, sir?" Troy replied, his voice slightly hoarse. He tried to ignore the subdued giggling and scoffing looks from all his classmates but the flush rising in his cheeks gave him away.

"Bolton, my time is not for your rest. If you can't stay awake in my class then I suggest you find a more suitable time to take it. But, for now, I do not tolerate this type of behavior from my students and I am going to have to ask you to leave."

Troy stared at his professor, eyes narrowed in confusion. "I'm sorry, you want me to-"

"-Leave. Yes Mr. Bolton. And I'd like to see you during my office hours later today."

"Oh," Troy was stunned. Wasn't this a little harsh? "Um, Ok." He quickly gathered up his belongings, avoiding the wide-eyed stares from the other students and the angry glare from his professor as he awkwardly shuffled out of his row and hurriedly left the oppressively silent room.

Collapsing into an empty bench just outside his classroom door, Troy rubbed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath of air. How could he have gotten into trouble already? Why had he let himself fall asleep? That was just stupid. Scrunching his eyes up tight, Troy took one more moment to chastise himself before opening his tired, red-rimmed eyes, blinking away the tears that had inexplicably formed.

* * *

Sharpay sighed, lost in thought as she picked at her uneaten peanut butter sandwich. She was sitting at a picnic table under a beautiful tree, the wind was blowing and the sound of happy chatter and laughter could be heard from the tables around her. But Sharpay wasn't enjoying any of it. Instead, she was eating lunch all by herself, not at all how she'd imagined her college life would be.

"Excuse me, are you Sharpay?"

Startled, Sharpay looked up distractedly for the source of the voice that had spoken so close to her. "What?" she asked, unconvinced that the gorgeous boy standing before her was even speaking to her.

"You're Sharpay, right?" he repeated unabashedly. His bright blue eyes boring deep into Sharpays. "We have Intro to Theatre together."

"Oh! Right!" Sharpay gave the boy a quick smile before looking down again and starting to pack up her belongings.

"Can I join you?"

Sharpay froze, her hand in midair, about to grab her pen which was blowing across the table from the force of the wind.

"Join me?" Sharpay was surprised by the dramatic increase in her heart rate, suddenly more alert to the blood pumping through her body, pounding in her ears and rising to her cheeks. Sharpay turned to the boy and considered him for a moment, the smile on her face more genuine than before.

But her smile immediately melted away when an unexpected image of Troy forced its way into her minds eye and an unusual sense of guilt smothered the butterflies beginning to form in her stomach.

"Actually, I was just leaving," she said coldly. Grabbing her pen from where it had rolled to the other side of the table and picking up her book-bag, Sharpay stood and walked away without another glance in the boy's direction.

Not accustomed to being rejected, the boy continued to stand by the table as he watched Sharpay scamper away, a boiling sense of determination building inside of him.

"I wouldn't worry about it, dude," a curly haired boy said from behind him. "She's like that."

Smiling, the boy turned to face his new teammate. "Oh, I'm not worried, Chad. I can break her."

* * *

Sharpay walked across the lush green lawn as quickly as she could in her sinking heals and ducked into the nearest building. The hallway was empty, the voices of all the lecturing professors echoing throughout their rooms and mixing together in the hall.

Sharpay's heals clacked swiftly against the beige tiles and reverberated off the walls, resounding in her ears. Her steps came faster as she found her destination, located at the end of the long hallway next to the wide staircase that led to the upper floors. She burst through the closed bathroom door and ran into the nearest stall, slamming the door shut. Finally, she felt safe, like nothing bad could get to her.

What had just happened to her? That wasn't Sharpay back there. Sharpay would have smiled at the boy and giggled and batted her eyelashes flirtatiously as she gave coy answers to every one of his not so probing questions. But she did none of that.

Collapsing onto the toilet seat and dropping her head into her hands, Sharpay sighed dejectedly as she tried to identify this clouded emotion that seemed to have taken over her mind. It's something she'd never before encountered and she was surprised by just how much harder normal life seemed to be with it. All day she found herself walking with her shoulders drooped and her head hung low, her eyes unwilling to rise off the floor. Every facial expression drained her emotionally and her whole body seemed to ache from the physical effort of living.

Taking in a deep breath and blinking away the tears that had unexpectedly sprung to her eyes, Sharpay sat up straight, pushed her shoulders back and resolved to survive this day. And she was going to do it with a smile, no matter how faint it appeared.

* * *

Troy looked around the dining hall at all the happy chattering students. They all seemed so carefree and generally pleased to be there. The sight of it caused something to tighten uncomfortably in his stomach leaving him with a sour sense of isolation. Looking down at his plate, Troy scowled at his food: an oily hamburger topped with melting, oozing swiss cheese and greasy, soggy fries swimming in watery, slightly discolored ketchup. Just as easily as his hunger had come, it quickly went away, instead turning his stomach over and causing Troy to search out the bathrooms. Just in case. Taking a sip of his ice water, Troy concentrated hard on settling his stomach before taking his entire tray to the industrial sized garbage can and dumping every untouched morsel.

His stomach churned again as a girl with a steaming bowl of chili walked by. With nothing else to do and an intense desire to escape all this nauseating dorm food, Troy quickly ducked out of the dining hall and onto the sunny promenade. Seeking out his favorite tree and settling himself beneath its branches, Troy leaned back and immediately felt more relaxed. He finally felt at ease for the first time that day. This was his safe spot, where nothing bad could get to him.

Closing his eyes and breathing in the familiar scent of grass and dirt, Troy pictured Gabriella and wondered what she was doing. Probably studying, wearing those stylish new glasses she had bought over the summer hoping they'd make her look more collegiate. Troy could picture her in the library with stacks of large, yellowing, dust covered books all surrounding her, her nose buried in one of them as she feverishly took notes. Troy smiled, oddly comforted by the familiar image he'd conjured and hoping it was close.

* * *

"Gabby, wake up! Wake up!"

Gabriella groaned in annoyance at the hand that was shaking her and rolled over. "Why? What time is it?"

"It's nearly five."

"In the morning?! Why are you waking me so early?"

"No, Gabby, it's five in the evening. Don't you have a night class to get to?"

Gabriella laughed, though immediately regretted it as the noise brought her attention to her growing headache. With another moan, she rolled back over and sat up. Suddenly dizzy, she paused to allow her head to clear before even attempting to stand. Unfortunately, her head never cleared as her stomach rolled over and threatened bringing all of its contents up with it. Clamping her hand over her mouth, Gabriella moaned for a third time as she sprinted from her bed to the toilet in the bathroom.

"At least it's getting good use, huh?" Gabriella's roommate said with a hint of irony in her voice as she poured out a glass of Vernors and waited for Gabriella to re-emerge.

* * *

**Uh oh, I think Gabby was out late last night…**

**I feel really bad for Sharpay in this chapter, she has to deal with a lot of emotions that she doesn't understand. And as the pitching staff on my favorite troubled baseball team has taught me, it is much easier dealing with an evil you know than an evil you don't.**

**Anyway, there are a lot of underlying emotions in this chapter and I wanted it more focused on that aspect of the story. So, I'm sorry there isn't a whole lot of action. But it is setting up some of the action that is to come.**

**As always, please tell me your thoughts. I need to hear from you!**


	3. Peace at Last

**Disclaimer: Sheesh, finals are stressful! And I don't own HSM.**

Peace at Last

"Have you gone insane? We can't put that in our story!" Sharpay shrieked with no regard to the number of strangers attempting to enjoy their Friday evening coffee at the surrounding tables in the eccentrically decorated coffee shop.

"Why not? This story needs something exciting to happen," Tiara countered, facing Sharpay from the opposite side of the small, round table.

Sharpay gasped in offence. "My story is plenty exciting," she huffed, sitting back in her chair and glaring at Tiara with wild eyes.

"Oh, really? Let's see, girl gets amnesia, boy shows her items from her past, boy and girl fall in love. Please," she scoffed, "tell me something I haven't heard before."

"I would but all the things I'm thinking you've been called before."

Now it was Tiara's turn to gasp.

"Besides," Sharpay continued, "why would Jack Bauer randomly show up at their school? Nobody's going to get it!"

"God, I wish Ms. Darbus had just picked one of our musicals," Tiara mumbled as she mimicked Sharpay's stance and crossed her arms on the table with slit eyes, prepared for a much rehearsed stare-down.

* * *

Troy cut the engine to his beat up truck and gazed with tired eyes at his house. He didn't exactly know why he'd decided to come home for the weekend, but he was certainly glad that he did. He just wasn't entirely sure how his parents would greet him seeing as he hadn't given them any warning of his arrival.

Taking in a deep breath, Troy stepped out of the truck and grabbed his duffle bag, wishing he had brought more clothes home where laundry is still free.

"Troy!" A surprised voice said from the yard behind him. "What are you doing home? Is everything alright?"

Troy quickly turned around and plastered a smile on his face. "Sure, dad, everything's fine. I just thought I'd surprise you and mom."

Jack looked at his son suspiciously. As good as Troy is at acting, a father knows when something is off. Not wanting to press the matter prematurely he simply nodded with a smile and said, "Welcome home, Troy."

* * *

"And then she says 'I'm an impenetrable fortress and you have sperm'!"

Sharpay sighed, dropping her head into her hand. She silently counted to ten in an attempt to calm her boiling nerves before she responded with, "What the HELL?"

Tiara laughed, knowing she'd gotten Sharpay's goad in this latest exchange.

Sharpay grunted in annoyance, realizing, too, that Tiara had won.

"Fine. Whatever. I'm going to go make a phone call."

Standing up, Sharpay shuffled her way through the mess of tables, chairs, and strangers legs to reach the relatively quieter space in front of the bathroom door. Scrunching her nose at the rank smell that permeated from the men's restroom, Sharpay pulled out her phone and hastily dialed Ryans number.

"Please pick up, please pick up, please pick up…" she whispered repeatedly as she listened to the rings, each successive ring causing her hope to deflate a little more.

"_Hey guys, you've called Ryan. I'm doing something more interesting right now so leave a message and I'll ring you later. Peace."_

"RYAN!" she screamed into the receiver, her anger effectively getting the best of her. "I'm sorry, I meant: why don't you ANSWER YOUR DAMN PHONE!" Sharpay took in a deep breath. "I'm sorry, I meant: Hey Ry! How's it going? Remember how last message I told you about Tiara finding out about my musical? And how she turned one in to Ms. Darbus, too? Well, Ms. D liked both our ideas and she's making us collaborate! But, seriously Ry, this girl is impossible! I mean, I'm pretty sure I'm going to-"

"_You're time has expired. Would you like to leave another message? Press one for yes, press two for no."_ The automated voice answering system interrupted. Sharpay gritted her teeth, every disturbance making her disproportionately angrier. Her movements remarkably more erratic than usual, Sharpay removed her phone from her ear and glared at the keypad, punching the number one and replacing it rather harshly to her ear.

"Kill her! She is driving me insane! I told you my plot line. You know, with the girl who gets in a car accident and develops amnesia. It's such a romantic plot line, and don't believe her when she says there is no room for comedy because believe you me, there is shit-load room for comedy! But she keeps wanting to put in some stupid secret agents who're after some pop-star who they are mistaking to be my main character-amnesiac. I mean, how stupid is that?! Anyway, thanks for listening, I feel better just venting. Talk to you later!"

And with an unburdened smile, Sharpay hung up her phone and flounced back to the table, rejuvenated with new patience and confident she'll survive this day primarily unscathed.

* * *

"Troy, honey. What are you doing home?" Mrs. Bolton asked in surprise as Troy shuffled into the kitchen.

"I don't know," Troy sighed, almost forgetting that he was talking to his mother. Catching the suspicious look that crept onto her face Troy quickly straightened his posture, put a happier look on his face and amended, "I had the weekend off and I wanted to surprise you."

Mrs. Bolton studied her son as his smile slipped so easily off of his face and his shoulders seemed to droop from an invisible weight. With another sigh, Troy slumped into the seat at the counter and set his chin in his hands.

"I just needed a break."

Placing her hands square on the countertop, Mrs. Bolton nodded her head in understanding though her expression was still serious. "What about basketball, Troy? I know you said it was hard, but you have a commitment to the team. You are going to have to stick it out for at least the rest of this season. After that, of course you can quit. If that's what you truly want."

"I'm not going to quit. And I'm still keeping my commitments, don't worry mom. I just don't know why it's so hard. I mean, we're doing the same things I've done for my whole life. I just don't get it." As Troy talked, his voice continually decreased in volume as his words mimicked the thoughts that plagued him every night.

What was different with this team? Why was he so tired all the time? What was really making this whole experience so damn impossible? No matter how hard he examined the practices, he just couldn't figure it out. And the longer it takes him to figure this out, the deeper the hole that he seems to be digging himself into. All the pressure from himself, his coach, and his teammates was mounting on top of him and he was lost as to how to overcome these obstacles.

Once again conceding to his ignorance, Troy forced his mind to quiet down, hoping that his mother hadn't noticed this embarrassing inward battle he was struggling with. Looking up from the tile on the floor that he'd been unconsciously staring at, Troy saw the sympathetic look in his mothers eyes as she gazed at him sadly. Troy laughed nervously and stood up off of the stool.

"Heh, um, sorry about that mom. I guess I'm a little tired from the drive. I think I'm going to go buy some coffee before I unload the rest of my stuff," he said as he rushed from the kitchen.

"Wait, Troy! You know we have coffee here that we can brew," Mrs. Bolton called after him, trying to get him to slow down for a moment as her maternal radar continued to go off at deafening volumes inside her head.

"Yeah, but I want to good coffee," Troy called back, referring to the famously brewed coffee at his favorite café in town.

"Troy."

The serious tone of his mothers voice made Troy falter. Turning around he saw her silhouette in the hallway between the brightly lit kitchen and the darkened foyer.

"What?"

taking three steps into the room, Mrs. Bolton stepped out of the glare of light and into the dim, shadowing foyer where Troy could register her features. Her arms were folded over her chest protectively and Troy could tell that she was being careful to choose her words wisely. He hated when she got this cautious.

"Honey, I'm worried about you. I mean, you've lost weight, you have dark circles under your eyes. I feel like there's something you aren't telling me. Are you sure everything's ok?"

Troy smiled, though his eyes betrayed him the insincerity in this action. "Of course, mom. Everything's great. I'm just tired from the long drive home."

Mrs. Bolton nodded, allowing her son to grab his keys and rush out the door, leaving her alone in the shadows, her heart pounding and her mind reeling.

* * *

"Alright, Tiara," Sharpay said in a measured tone. "Let's try this again." She set her freshly refilled mug of coffee onto the table and sat down once more.

"Of course, Sharpay. And maybe this time we can actually get something written before you run off in a fit of rage?"

"Two times that happened! And you would rather me run off than exact it on you, so maybe you shouldn't poke the sleeping bear, huh?"

"Too late," Tiara mumbled, looking away and taking a dramatically triumphant sip of her steaming tea.

Sharpay rolled her eyes in disgust. "Whatever. So, I was thinking about your idea of the two girls being identical. What do you think about Travis being the only person who can tell them apart? Hinting at the fact that he is actually destined for Sarah, not Gail. What do you think?"

Tiara paused, thinking about this suggestion. Slowly a genuine smile grew on her face and her eyes sparkled with excitement. "That's excellent. And it should be for some really random reason that he can tell them apart. Something that he shouldn't be able to tell from a photograph but for some reason he can, anyway. Like their brand of perfume, or shampoo or something."

Sharpay laughed. "That's great, that'll be so funny." Picking up her pen, she started to scribble furiously onto her nearly empty sheet of paper, happy that they finally seemed to be working through this. She was even starting to feel ok with changing her concept. At least she got to keep the romance.

"Can I have a large coffee?"

Sharpay froze. That voice sounded awfully familiar. But it couldn't be. It's the middle of the semester, what would he be doing home? Wouldn't he be busy partying or hanging out with friends?

"Oh my God! What is he doing here?" Tiara gasped, her hand held up to her widely opened mouth in a false display of modesty.

The interest in Tiara's eyes was the last straw for Sharpay. Putting the pen down, she glanced over in the direction of the voice, trying to move her head as little as possible. To her amazement, and slight dismay, she saw exactly who she'd thought, waiting by the counter to pick up his coffee.

Troy tapped his foot impatiently as he tried to think of something to do. He wasn't exactly keen on going home right away but he didn't feel like doing anything alone. Troy smiled to himself. Not even a year ago this problem would have never occurred to him. In fact, many times he was desperate to just be left alone. If he'd only known then what college would do to him.

Finally, grabbing the cup that the barista had just placed on the counter, Troy turned toward the door, taking a quick survey of the patrons of the coffee shop as he turned. He took two steps before the visual registered in his brain. Stopping abruptly, Troy pivoted on his heal and turned back to face the general confusion of tables.

"Sharpay? Is that you?" he asked unusually loudly to the mess of blonde hair that was facing him.

The persons arm dropped onto the table, and the head of blonde hair slowly turned in his direction. "Troy?" She asked in overly accentuated surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm visiting for the weekend. Taking a break from things, you know. So, how are you? What have you been up to?" From the second Sharpay looked at him with her familiar gaze of superiority and motioned for him to sit with a graceful gesture of her hand, Troy immediately felt at ease. This was what he'd been missing. There was no anxiety, no pressure to behave in a certain way. She already knew who he was and he could just be himself, nothing more.

Troy took the seat as a slew of emotions that had been smothered before suddenly flooded through him. Troy immediately felt energized, he bounced incessantly in his seat as he wildly gestured with his arms and he couldn't seem to wipe the ridiculous grin off of his face. It was like he'd finally woken from months of hibernation.

Sharpay laughed at his lively behavior and quickly explained what she and Tiara were doing. Then, in a moment of insanity, a moment she only remembers as a haze of bright lights, excessive coffee and lack of thought, Sharpay reached out and grabbed Troy's hand. With a smile so big it was beginning to hurt her cheeks, Sharpay said, "Tiara and I have to get back to working on this, but are you doing anything tonight? We should catch up."

Troy's head began to nod though Sharpay was sure it was because of his intense bouncing. But before she'd given up hope, he opened his mouth and replied, "Yes, that'd be great. How 'bout you give me a call when you're done?"

"Great," Sharpay whispered, letting go of Troy's hand. Still grinning like a maniac, Sharpay didn't hear Tiara's giggling until after she'd lost sight of Troy through the glass door.

* * *

Sharpay sat in the seldom used parlor room, her nerves in a mighty bundle. Where was he? Why was he so keen on coming over anyway? He's probably just doing some elaborate prank, it's pretty stupid to be falling for this again.

Sharpay tapped her foot impatiently as she readjusted her shirt for the fifth time and checked the clock again.

_Ding dong_

Finally! Sharpay closed her eyes and counted to ten before standing and slowly stepping toward her front door. Bracing herself for the disappointment she'd convinced herself would happen, she opened the door slowly with a pained expression on her scrunched up face.

"Sharpay, what's wrong?"

His tone instantly caused all her tension to disappear. "Nothing," she smiled with a slight shrug, "now."

"I brought a classic," he announced as he stepped through the door and pulled out of his jacket pocket a dvd case. "Newsies!"

Sharpay gasped, "Oh my god, Newsies! That is my absolute favorite movie! How did you know?"

Troy shrugged, "I figured musicals were going to be our common denominator. And if Gabriella has taught me anything, it is that Christian Bale equals win."

Sharpay laughed and motioned him to follow her to the entertainment room. Taking the dvd and putting it into the player, Sharpay took a seat in the ratty, overstuffed recliner; her favorite spot in the entire house. Looking over as the movie started, she saw that Troy was still standing just inside the doorway, shifting back and forth on his feet nervously.

"You can take a seat, I won't bite." Sharpay cringed at the explicit mental image that came with her statement. Wanting to change the topic as quickly as possible, she nodded toward the screen and said, "When I was little, I used to want to be a Newsie."

"Yeah?" Troy hadn't even caught her unintentional insinuation. "It would have terrified me when I was little. I wouldn't have beeen able to go out into the city like that alone."

Sharpay nodded, unsure of how to respond. Instead, she tensely turned her attention to the screen and allowed the elapsing silence end that conversation. Troy sat on the edge of the couch, not yet comfortable enough to truly enjoy the movie as he took frequent, furtive glances in Sharpay's direction. She looked different to him but he couldn't figure out what it was. Something around her eyes, she looked more real; more honest. More like a normal person who suffers through their mistakes.

"So, how is Gabriella?"

"Huh?" Troy was slightly startled by her voice and quickly looked away, hoping she hadn't caught him staring at her.

"Well, you'd mentioned her earlier and I forgot to ask. How's college treating her?"

Troy took in a deep breath and furrowed his brows, thinking. "You know, I'm not really sure. I think it's going well. We haven't talked much recently, too much going on at the moment. I guess."

"Oh."

"How's Ryan doing?"

"Oh, well, you know…He's not, uh, talking to me, exactly. And I don't even know why! I didn't make fun of him as he packed his star dazzle award in the middle of all his underwear and I never tried to take away from him getting the scholarship instead of me! He's just not taking my calls anymore."

"Oh."

The two fell silent. Troy relaxed back into the couch and started watching the movie for the first time that night.

"How about your classes? How are they going?" Sharpay asked, hoping she wasn't digging too deep. She was enjoying this pleasantness between them and she wasn't quite ready for the conversation to end.

Troy laughed, "Oh, you know. They're classes. I shouldn't have taken them so early in the day but at least it gives me time in between that and practice."

"Right, I almost forgot! You're on the basketball team too. You must be busy."

"I guess. Sure. What about you? How're your classes?"

"Not bad," Sharpay said, actually surprised at her own answer. She took a moment to think about it. Her classes were almost…enjoyable. It seemed to be everything else that marred her experience. "I think I'm actually enjoying my classes." She laughed. "Which is strange considering I've never enjoyed a single class in my life."

"I hear ya'," Troy laughed. "Oh, I love this part!" He exclaimed as Jack Kelly started to perform a dramatic mixture of stomp and country styled dancing, all while singing about Santa Fe in the middle of a darkened street in 1899, New York City.

"Troy Bolton," Sharpay said in mock disapproval, "Who would've thought you'd be in secret love with Disney musicals?"

"I know," Troy replied with a similar tone. "Don't tell anyone, OK? It'll be our little secret."

Troy and Sharpay locked eyes for a moment and Troy gave her a warm smile before returning his attention to the large screen in front of him. Sharpay hugged herself tightly and desperately fought to keep her grin from breaking out in full force. When was the last time she'd felt this happy? Too long ago to remember.

Wrapping herself up tightly in the crocheted afghan, Sharpay settled down into the chair, comforted by an unusual sense of peace that had settled over her as she and Troy quietly watched the movie in the dark entertainment room.

* * *

**So, I was thinking to myself, 'What is the most self-obsessed thing I could do?' And it immediately came to me like the self-obsessed person that I am. I could reference myself in one of my stories! Those of you who've read Mysteries Unknown – you know what I'm talking about. Those of you who haven't – you probably should. And review as you go ;)**

**Fun fact: Kenny Ortega, director and choreographer of HSM, was also the director and choreographer of Newsies. That's not why I had them watch the movie, though I enjoyed the coincidence when I belatedly made the connection. They're actually watching Newsies because it is a fantastic movie that I completely adore. And Troy is right, anything with Christian Bale equals win.**

**I hope you enjoyed my randomly super long chapter and please, please, please reward my efforts with a review!**


	4. Author's Note, Please Read

Hi everybody,

Please read all of this.

First and foremost I need to apologize to all of you. For many things, actually, but most importantly for what I'm about to tell you. Over the past few months there have been a multitude of changes in my life that have left me in a drastically different situation than I had previously been in. These are things that seemed to have crept up on me and happened with such stealth that I didn't realize what was going on until it sort of attacked me from behind… if that makes any sense. For a while I had thought that I could just ignore it and continue with my life, but, considering the decline in my speed of postings and a lack of emotional diversity within each chapter, this was obviously not the case.

I have debated with myself over how to handle this situation for a long time, and I've gone back and forth on my decision repeatedly, but I have finally come to a conclusion. I am not going to be able to finish this story in a satisfying manner at this time. And instead of making you wait a month or two between chapters only to receive something half-assed written, I've decided to put a pause on this story. I'm really sorry for leaving you all in the lurch, it's a truly crappy thing for me to do. But at the moment, it's my only option.

However, I'm not going to take everything off right away as there may be a possibility that I'll be able to legitimately finish the story in a few months. And I truly want to finish this story, for all of you and for me.

Now, for those of you who I am supposed to be a reader/reviewer for, I again need to apologize for dropping of the face of the Earth these past few weeks (....er, month?). After a sort of culmination of shit that went down I'd stolen some friends from the rez and we disappeared for a while. Not my wisest choice, let me tell you, but something I felt I needed to do. For cathartic reasons…and just to escape. Anyway, bear with me, I will get to reviewing your stories again. I just need to catch up in life first.

I love you all for sticking with me. Please don't forget me and hopefully I'll get to start back up again soon.

~R


	5. Author's NoteTake Two

Hey all!

I'm back (dun, dun, dun…)

But, seriously, I am _finally_ able to come back and finish this story. And I am SO excited, I have some brilliant ideas that are literally bursting out of me and attempting to land on the screen. I'm hoping I still have some people who are willing to read my story as I understand it has taken me forever to come back.

And therein lies my current internal debate. How to handle this return to the middle of my story. I am trying to decide whether I should just start it all again, seeing as I only have three chapters to repost. It shouldn't take too long. Or do I continue from here. And if the latter happens to be the answer, I just have to mention that I hate having these authors notes in the middle of the story. But if I delete them than anybody who has commented on either note will not be able to comment on the next two chapters of the story. And, really, what is this all about but for the comments?

See my problem?

Well, hopefully some people read this and if you have any opinion on the matter feel free to let me know. And I apologize for the rather unorganized manner in which this note is written. My brain is going in about thirty directions at once and my fingers are trying to follow each and every path.

Anyway, I'll be making a final decision soon and we'll get to continuing this story. I hope you're as excited as I am!

~R


	6. New People

New People

Troy started awake so suddenly he was sure some noise must have woken him. Sitting up he glanced around, his dorm room still blanketed in darkness, the only light coming through the crack beneath the door leading to the hallway. Sitting still for a minute, Troy listened to the quite around him. Relatively speaking, of course. His roommate was breathing heavily through his nose on the other side of the room and the subtle thump of heavy base could just barely be heard through the cement walls. This was Troy's favorite time to be in the dorm, when he had the smallest possibility of running into all the people he lived near. People he spent the entirety of every day avoiding.

Grasping for his phone beneath his pillow, Troy looked at the time hoping it would be near seven, when he'd have to get up for class.

Three o'clock. Damn.

Throwing himself back onto his pillow, Troy quieted his breathing and begged himself to drift quickly and easily back into sleep. But it was too late and he knew it. This had become a regular phenomenon for him as of late. And once he'd woken up, he knew there was no chance of him falling back to sleep. Sitting up once more, Troy sighed in resignation and climbed out of his lofted bed. Throwing on the first items of clothing he came across, Troy grabbed his computer and headed out of his room in search of the common room.

Putting his computer onto one of the many beat-up and discolored end-tables, Troy headed straight to the coffee-maker to brew a potent pot with the intent of fueling him for the long day ahead. Then, sitting back down by his computer, Troy went straight to his e-mail's inbox. No new mail. Big surprise there.

One of the most frustrating things about his inability to sleep was, surprisingly, not the fact that he forgot what well-rested felt like. No, it was the boredom. So much for his fear of being overwhelmed by schoolwork. That actually got done during the daytime hours. Now he had to try to figure out what to do to entertain himself during the long hours of the night.

Pulling up a new e-mail to compose, Troy quickly typed in Gabby's e-mail address and tabbed straight to the body of the e-mail, ignoring the subject line for the moment.

'_Hey Gabby,'_ he wrote, pausing for a moment and wondering what it was, exactly, that he wanted to write. _'How's your week so far? Mine's kinda sucked, but what's new, right? Anyway, I was just wondering if you were doing anything this weekend. Maybe we could get together. I need to hang out with someone who actually likes me.'_

Troy sighed and deleted the last sentence, shame burning his cheeks despite his being alone. Instead, he replaced it with, _'I really need you right now. Love you and miss you tons, Troy.'_

Reading over the e-mail once before sending it, Troy turned off his computer and got up to pour himself a large mug of coffee. That had taken a good ten minutes. Now what?

* * *

Sharpay sighed and brought her pen back to the heavily marked paper to cross off another sentence and rewrite it in the margins. Who knew schoolwork was so difficult? Putting the pen down, Sharpay dropped her head into her hands and took in a deep breath, attempting to clear her head entirely. Unfortunately, the obnoxious sound of happy people invaded her ears and encroached on her glimpse of serenity. Shivering in the cool breeze, Sharpay gave up her attempt at a peace ritual and instead reached for her sweater.

"Looking for this?"

Sharpay jumped at the unexpected voice and whipped her head to look at the speaker behind her. It was the boy, the stalker as Sharpay so fondly referred to him in her head.

"Give me back my sweater," she commanded, just a hint of her authoritativeness present in her voice.

"Sorry," the boy mumbled, scrambling forward and handing it over. "It had blown off the bench, I just wanted to make sure you didn't lose it."

Sharpay fixed him with an accusatory glare, not responding with any words.

"You know, I think I've given you the wrong impression. Can we start over?"

Sharpay was about to scoff in his face and stalk away, but she made the fatal error of looking into his eyes. Seeing the pleading sincerity emanating from his every pore, her stomach flipped and her own countenance softened. Hunching her back just a little, Sharpay looked away embarrassed and nodded her head in agreement.

"Great." His smile could be heard in his voice. "My name is Josh. I believe we have Intro to Theatre together."

Sharpay smiled, still looking down, too afraid she'd lose her head and run away again if she looked at him.

"This would be your turn to speak," he prompted.

Sharpay giggled. "Don't be stupid, you already know my name."

Josh thought about it for a second then said with confusion in his voice, "Um, no? I don't think so. You see, this is the first time we've spoken."

Sharpay laughed again and finally turned to face him. "Fine. I'll play along."

"Play along?"

"It's nice to meet you, Josh. I'm Sharpay." Sharpay held out her hand as an invitation to shake.

Placing his hand in hers, Josh smiled and said, "Sharpay? Such an unusual name." And to Sharpay's surprise, there was none of the usual mockery that accompanied that statement.

* * *

Troy returned to his dorm room after his last class of the day. Thursday. His short day. Trudging up the stairwell steps, Troy started to regret this decision. Normally he would be in either the library or the student union, hiding out before returning to his room much later in the evening. It was rare for him to ever be back at this time in the afternoon.

Keeping his head down, Troy didn't make eye contact with any of his neighbors as they flitted across the hall to meet with friends and throw a blown up beach ball at each other in a modified, slightly more dangerous version of Wally-ball.

Ducking into his room, Troy was slightly comforted by the fact that his roommate, Jordan, didn't seem to enjoy their neighbors any more than he did.

Throwing himself down onto the lumpy cushion that was on their floor beneath his loft, Troy pressed his fingers to his temples and squeezed his eyes shut. The cushion was supposed to be a futon, his roommate had brought it from home, but the frame was slightly too big for the limited space beneath Troy's bed. Instead of rearranging the entire room, the boys agreed that the floor was just as effective a surface to lay the cushion on.

"Dude, you alright?" a friendly, and sober, voice said from the doorway to the conjoined bathroom. Troy's dorm room was connected to one other room through the bathroom, though he hardly ever saw his suitemates there. Troy was slightly fearful of how their room must smell because of that fact.

Troy shifted his position so he could just see Jordan's left side. Good enough.

"You know what'll make you feel better?"

"I don't need weed."

Jordan laughed and stepped all the way into their room. "I was going to say food but I like your train of thought better."

Troy chuckled, the noise sounding strained. "Right. Of course. Food. That sounds good."

"Great!" Jordan lunged for his school ID and sprinted to the door before turning and bouncing on his toes impatiently, waiting for Troy to catch up.

Troy rose gingerly, his perpetually sore muscles causing his every move to be more measured than usual, and he checked to maker sure his ID was in his pocket. Satisfied that he had everything he needed, Troy and Jordan bravely faced the circus outside their room and headed to the far corner of the building where the cafeteria was located. The one good thing about living in the freshmen dorms: dining halls were within a short walking distance.

Troy and Jordan walked in silence. They seemed to have come to some sort of strange understanding. They didn't ever talk much but Troy was under the impression he had turned out to be one of the few people that Jordan approved of.

Suddenly, a giggling shriek burst from a girl clad in only a white t-shirt and panties as she jumped into the hallway and collided directly into Troy. This elicited what Troy could only assume was a growl of annoyance from his roommates throat. "Jackass," Jordan muttered, a reaction that seemed to support Troy's theory on their semi-friendship.

Troy decided that he liked Jordan.

Stepping into the cafeteria, Troy felt the cold sweat start to bead on the back of his neck. This was his least favorite place on the entire campus. This was the one place he couldn't hide from his loneliness.

Jordan grabbed a tray and jovially headed off to grab his fried meal but Troy paused a moment, waiting for the familiar tension to settle in his chest and constrict his breathing.

Ah, there it is.

Moving even more slowly than before, Troy grabbed a tray and wandered through the food lines, not paying any attention to what landed on his plate and spending what he hoped to be an appropriate amount of time around the food. He turned toward the dining area to search out his roommate and for one agonizing moment Troy imagined that Jordan had left, leaving Troy friendless and alone, once again. But his eye caught the motion of a waving hand in the corner of the room and Troy laughed at himself for thinking with such paranoia.

"This food is such shit for the body, man, but God help me if it's the best thing I've ever tasted," Jordan said, his face lighting up in ecstasy as he took a huge bite of his spicy, fried chicken sandwich. Troy scrunched his nose in distaste and tried to block out all smells emanating all around him.

Unfortunately, it was difficult not to smell the stench of the fried fish sticks, which immediately caused his stomach to cramp. Hunching his shoulders and leaning his elbow on the table to support his weary body, Troy spent the rest of the meal picking at his sliced green peppers and pretending to listen to Jordan's light conversation.

* * *

Sharpay sat cross-legged in the velvet purple squishy chair tucked into the back corner of her favorite coffee shop. Taking a long sip from her iced coffee, she gazed over the brim of her cup at Josh who was sitting opposite her.

Sharpay slowly lowered her drink and her lips carefully formed her words. "So, let me get this straight," she said, stalling for time and hoping that her heart would stop racing in such an uncomfortable manner. "You were your High Schools star basketball player, you're on the team at U of A and you have an unexplainable passion for the Theatre?" Sharpay stared at Josh with surprised disbelief then rolled her eyes and muttered, "I can't believe this."

Josh looked worried, "Is there something wrong with that? I know I had trouble with this theatre thing in High School. You know, 'status quo' and all that. But I'd thought you'd be cool with it. I mean, isn't theatre all about unexplainable passion?"

Sharpay shifted anxiously in her seat, working very hard to keep her pesky memories at bay.

"Are you ok? Do I need to give you some time to adjust to the whole jock/theatre cross-over?"

Sharpay barked out a quipped laugh and moved her gaze to meet Josh's again. "It's not that at all."

"Really?" doubt filling his expression.

"No, I was just caught off guard. As it happens, you're not my first acquaintance to break the 'status quo', as it were."

Josh's crystal blue eyes, first emanating his doubt, immediately showed his understanding. Sharpay wished those eyes were a different color.

"Your brother?" He guessed. "He was into both sports and theatre, as well?"

Sharpay paused, confused. She'd forgotten to follow their conversation at the end there. She was too busy fighting back images that only worked to hold her in the past.

"Huh? Oh, um, yeah, sure." She didn't feel like explaining any more than absolutely necessary. And, technically, Ryan had been quite the little league player. That counts as being 'into' sports. At least at some point in his life.

"You look pretty when you're deep in thought," Josh said in a softer voice, changing the direction of their conversation.

Sharpay blushed. "You look pretty when you try to compliment me," she replied without missing a beat.

Josh's eyebrows lifted in mild surprise and he chuckled along with Sharpay who was light-heartedly laughing at his expression. "You liked that?"

Sharpay nodded as she continued to giggle.

"If I weren't so mesmerized by your laugh I'd make a note to myself to remember that."

With another laugh, Sharpay replied, "Something tells me you won't forget."

Grabbing his coffee off the table and standing, Josh held his hand out in Sharpay's direction, inviting her to join. Sharpay paused for a moment, gazing at the offering with a clouded expression. But just as Josh began to worry, she placed her hand gently within his and rose from her seat.

With their hands linked casually at their sides, their flirting conversation continued as they strolled out the door and walked aimlessly down the street, enjoying the warm sun and cool breeze.

* * *

Troy jerked, opening his eyes and gasping for air. He'd just had that dream where he was falling, and woke just as his body was about to hit the ground. He'd once heard that that was his soul slamming back into his body after being astral projected in his sleep. Troy wasn't sure if he believed that theory, he just wished these dreams would stop waking him.

Checking the time, he wasn't surprised to see that it was only three o'clock in the morning. Again. Troy was beginning to think his body knew the moment the clock showed three, he hardly slept later than that anymore.

Going through his new morning ritual, Troy climbed out of his loft, threw on some clothes and grabbed his computer, heading straight for the common room. His computer booted up as he made his coffee and Troy said a silent prayer that Gabby had responded to his e-mail. He was desperate for any connection with his past.

Sharpay's image suddenly filled his mind. He remembered how real she'd been when they'd hung out in her entertainment room. He smiled at the memory, his unease lessening ever so slightly.

Sinking into the broken chair that was across from his computer, Troy absentmindedly navigated to his e-mail's inbox. No new messages. Troy cursed himself for getting his hopes up. Of course, she did have an entire day to respond. Was it seriously that hard?

Sighing, Troy opened up a new message and typed Gabriella's e-mail into the recipients line. Pausing, he thought about what he wanted to write, not wanting to sound too depressed. But no matter how hard he thought, he couldn't think of anything more he wanted to say to his girlfriend. Troy played with the backspace button on his keyboard as he let his mind wander, thinking about how different his life seemed to be turning out compared to what he'd been expecting.

Chuckling softly to himself and shaking his head, Troy focused his exhausted eyes on his computer screen and was only mildly surprised to see Sharpay's e-mail address where Gabriella's had been. Leaning back, Troy's muscles seemed to loosen up just a bit, relieving some of the tensions he'd learned to live with each day as he smile at the screen. Taking another moment to gather his thoughts Troy sat up and reached for his keyboard. Ignoring the subject line for the moment, Troy tabbed straight to the body of the e-mail and began typing.

**

* * *

**

Well, here it is. The much anticipated forth chapter! Hopefully it begins to make up for the long hiatus you had to wait through. I am so excited to be back and I hope you are enjoying the return. Please leave me a review, let me know what you think!


	7. When It All Falls Down

**Disclaimer: I do not own**

When It All Falls Down

To: "Troy Bolton"

Subject: It's a stairway to nowhere! I think that's just elegant.

Hey Troy!

I seriously don't know what you are talking about. I re-watched 'Seven Year Itch' last night and it is pure genius. I mean, I see your point about them not adapting from stage to film but that is just to keep the integrity of the work. I mean, lots of broadway to movie transitions were done without the transition, and they were still great. Like Rent. It's still great no matter where you see it. And Tom Ewell can certainly pull off the whole talking to himself thing. So I think you are completely wrong, that movie is pure fabulous!

So, Josh and I had lunch together, yesterday. We went to that Gold Street Caffé you were talking about. They really do have great food. And who knew such friendly service could be offered at such a low price??? Anyway, Josh was telling me about the first exhibition basketball game coming up this Friday and he said it was against Berkeley. I, of course, got really excited because it made me think of you. But then he invited me along. I just don't know. I mean, I'd love to go, it would be fun and I'd get to see you. I'm just not sure Josh and I are ready for this yet. We've only been dating for a month and a half. I just don't know how I feel about taking a weekend trip with him, you know? I mean, what do you think? Am I worrying too much? Josh has never been anything but honorable. I'm probably just building this all up in my head.

Well, I don't want to be late for class so I better get going. Have a great day today and remember to study for your exam on Thursday!

Later,

Sharpay

* * *

"Hey, man, I'm already late. You think you could pick it up a bit?" Jordan said to Troy who was lagging a good five steps behind him.

"Huh? Oh, right. Sorry man." Troy quickly jogged the few steps to close the distance between himself and his roommate before slipping back into his thoughts and falling behind again.

"Dude, what's up? You've been moping around all day. Don't tell me Sharpay took ten whole minutes responding to your text!" Jordan gasped in mock dismay. However, just as he finished chuckling at his own exclamation Troy's phone beeped the familiar three sounds, indicating he'd received a new text message.

Jordan rolled his eyes and Troy, not wanting to seem pathetic in front of his roommate, sheepishly shoved his phone deep into his pocket without opening the message.

"No," he scowled, responding to Jordan's first inquiry. "I just, I don't know. I'm having trouble figuring out my opinion on something, I guess."

Jordan snorted once more, "Only you," he laughed, shaking his head.

"I'm happy Sharpay has a boyfriend, I really am!" Troy insisted. "I'm just not sure this guy is right for her. And now she's talking about going away for a weekend with him and God only knows what he's expecting from her in return. No, maybe I'll tell her she shouldn't go with him. For her own safety, right?"

"Dude, I don't even know what you're talking about."

"But if I tell her not to go than I wont get to see her. And it's been so long since we've last seen each other! Maybe I should tell her to go and we can spend the whole weekend together."

"Just two wheels and you."

"What?" Troy asked having forgotten that Jordan was still in this conversation.

"You'll get to spend the whole weekend with her, sure. But you'll be spending it with her and her boyfriend together. Are you sure you can handle that?"

"Humph," Troy responded intelligently, his mind reeling in thought as his feet stopped moving forward once more.

"And, by the way, don't you already have a girlfriend of your own?" Jordan rolled his eyes at Troy's bewildered expression and decided he could probably make it to class without an escort, leaving Troy to ponder over his current dilemma in relative peace.

* * *

"No, no, no! Jimmy, you can't just show the confusion, you have to _feel_ the confusion!" Sharpay quickly glanced over to where Ms. Darbus was sitting in the audience to ensure that she was still within her realm of authority. Receiving a approving nod, Sharpay continued, "I watch you act but I don't believe you! Now, try it again from the top of the scene."

Turning around Sharpay slowly started walking up the long aisle within the East High auditorium, listening to poor Jimmy attempt to deliver his line convincingly. Sharpay cringed at the sound of his voice cracking, induced by his overactive nerves, and stopped listening as she was tired of working on this scene.

Glancing to her left, Sharpay saw Josh sitting discreetly in one of the many rows of red theatre seats. Her heart started to pound and the heat rushed to her face. She smiled at him but quickly remembered that she had yet to give him an answer on his proposal for the weekend. Wanting to avoid that conversation a little longer, Sharpay turned on her heal and marched back toward the stage shouting, "Jimmy! Jimmy, Jimmy, Jimmy. What am I going to do with you, boy?"

"Jimmy, could you come here for a moment?" Josh's voice rang through the auditorium clear and articulate.

Everybody, including Ms. Darbus, turned curiously toward him. Sharpay giggled nervously before clearing her throat to introduce the intruder.

"Everybody, this is my boyfriend, Josh. He was the lead in his High Schools musicals his junior and senior years and he is currently taking classes in the art of acting at U of A."

Unsure of what to do, Jimmy took a few hesitant steps toward the stairs that lead to the main floor but soon stopped to glance over at his silent teacher.

"Well, get going, Jimmy." Ms. Darbus's booming voice pronounced. "You, of all people, should know the Theatre waits for no one." With that, Jimmy scurried down the stairs and to the back of the auditorium to meet with Josh in semi-private.

Smiling, Sharpay turned and instructed the remaining students to set the beginning of the next act so that she could review their progress. She then turned and took a seat in the auditorium as the stage crew quickly changed the scenery and the actors frantically reviewed their lines.

Just as the scene began, Sharpay felt her phone vibrate in her jacket pocket. Fishing it out, she was excited to see a text from Troy. While trying to appear as though she were paying attention to the happenings on stage, Sharpay stealthily opened the message and read:

_I think it'd be great if you came to the game this Friday_

Sharpay exhaled a breath she hadn't even known she'd been holding and relaxed, relieved to have received Troy's blessings. Suddenly, she couldn't remember why she'd been anxious over this topic in the first place.

Happy, she waited impatiently for rehearsal to end then approached Josh with a giddy smile. "Remember that thing you suggested for this weekend?" she asked with a coy eyebrow raise.

"Yes?" Josh replied, placing his hands on her hips and pulling her in closer.

"Well," Sharpay continued, wrapping her arms around his neck. "I've decided to go."

"That's fantastic!" Josh exclaimed, closing the little distance left between them and pulling Sharpay flush against his muscular fram. Sharpay looked into Josh's sincerely happy eyes and smiled. Wrapping her arms around his neck even tighter, Sharpay rose up on her tiptoes in order to be closer to his height. She then pulled his mouth in toward hers and kissed him passionately, his arms wrapping tightly around her back, causing her to arch into his body.

At Ms. Darbus's "Ahem," they reluctantly broke apart. Josh grinned down at Sharpay and repeated, "That's fantastic."

* * *

Sharpay stepped through the paint-chipped double doors into the stale smelling gymnasium and glanced around at the already formed crowd. Surprisingly, the environment had not changed much from high school. The fans were mostly students dressed primarily in Berkeley's school colors. The gym was the same, too. Same high ceilings, same industrial lighting, same squeak and echo of tennis shoes sliding against the freshly waxed floor. Yes this room in which she'd never actually been before evoked the same emotions she'd fought to leave back in high school and she was not comfortable with it.

Looking toward the court, Sharpay saw Josh's form leaning over the bench next to the court, digging through his bag. She was wrong. This room is very different from East High's Gymnasium, and Josh was exactly why. Shuffling carefully over the slippery floor in her four-inch heals, Sharpay's internal angst quickly dissipated with every step.

"Josh!" She sang happily. "Josh!"

Josh looked up, his eyes hard and his expression stony. "What?" he barked, glaring at her with a fiery countenance.

"Nothing," Sharpay faltered, taken aback by Josh's harsh tone. "I was just–"

"What, Sharpay? I'm in the middle of warm-ups, here. About to play a basketball game. I don't have time for you. Just, go sit down and wait for me to finish." With that, he turned and jogged onto the court, calling for his teammate to pass him the ball.

"-going to wish you luck." Sharpay finished quietly, completely stunned by what had just transpired. Eye's wide in shock, Sharpay stood still, staring at the place at the bench where Josh had just been. It took her a few moments to recover enough to notice the bushel of curly black hair that had over heard the entire exchange from his place at the bench three feet down.

Sharpay locked eyes with Chad, hoping to convince him with her ice-queen expression that she was not affected by Josh's words, that she is still the fierce and independent Sharpay Evans that Chad had known in high school. She was surprised, however, to see an equal level of shock in Chad's face as she was feeling. And she was even more surprised to see an apology for his new friend's behavior playing in his eyes.

Without even needing to say a word, Sharpay gave Chad an appreciative nod and turned to find a seat in the bleachers.

* * *

Troy sat on the bench, excited to play basketball for the first time all season. This is what he lived for: the crowd cheering, his heart pumping, the adrenaline rushing (with a redbull for the extra help it provides) and his teammates meshing. Now he just hoped he'd make it into the game. Troy knew it would be difficult, he was lucky he was even on the team as a freshman. Not to mention his less than perfect performance in practice, so far. But, still, how could he not get some game time? He's Troy Bolton for goodness sake!

Feet bouncing energetically on the floor, Troy glanced up into the crowd for what seemed like the hundredth time, his eyes searching for that familiar mess of blonde hair. Specific people were just so hard to find in this crowd. Troy was about to avert his gaze back to the fast moving court when a frantically waving hand caught his eye. Smiling in anticipation, Troy strained his eyes to make out the features of this person but faltered when he realized who it actually was.

Gabriella. Sitting amidst a small group of students he assumed all came down from Stanford. She was decked out in a tightly fitted Berkeley t-shirt and extremely short jean cut-offs (Troy made a mental note to show her a slightly more appropriate way to sit while wearing those shorts) and her hair was practically glowing with the amount of gold and blue glitter she'd sprinkled in it.

Troy forced his expression to change from shocked dismay to a happy surprise and lifted his hand in a pseudo-wave. He couldn't help but to feel disappointed that this would probably cause him to miss spending time with Sharpay but he quickly reminded himself that he should want to spend more time with Gabriella. This little surprise should be better appreciated.

Thus, Troy was able to, once more, compartmentalize his true emotions, only allowing the drawer with the fabricated, but socially acceptable, emotions for his girlfriend of two years to be opened.

* * *

The game was well into the forth quarter and Troy was still sitting bored and lethargic on the bench. Finally accepting the fact that he wouldn't make it into the game, Troy decided to move on to other important topics. Reaching beneath the bench, Troy found his bag, already open and slightly messy with miscellaneous clothing and water bottles. Feeling around in one of the pockets, he easily located his phone. Still bent over, not wanting to be caught with his phone in the middle of the game, Troy opened it up and quickly typed out a text message to Sharpay.

_You here?_

Putting the phone back in his bag, Troy sat up, only to see his coach looking at him suspiciously. Troy gave his coach the most innocent look he could muster, to which his coach shrugged off any questions he may have had and instead called him over.

"Listen, Troy. We only have two more minutes of the game left. The starters have given you a good lead so all you have to do is hold it. Now, Go! And don't screw it up!" With that, Troy felt a hand shove him onto the court. A whistle blew and all of a sudden he had a basketball in his hands. A rush of exhilaration waved through his body and his lethargy seemed to vanish as he bounced the ball like he'd been taught from childhood to do.

Sprinting up the court, Troy smiled as the static gymnasium air was suddenly blowing through his hair. This was his moment, this was it! Taking his stance, Troy brought the ball up, just below his eyes, as he focused on his target, the net. He could just imagine what would happen next. He would lift up onto his toes without actually leaving the ground, his arms simultaneously thrust upward as he'd throw the ball into the air. He'd wait, watching the ball, all sound deaf to his ears, and then be washed in screams and cheers from the crowd as the whoosh of the net played in his ears.

But Troy never got to experience any of that because just as his hands brought the ball up to his face, he felt that familiar dizziness in his head. His legs became shaky and unstable and his vision clouded over. Bright colors danced around his mind forming shapes and symbols that meant nothing as he felt the air rush through his hair and heard the screams and cheers of the crowd. But then it all went away. The last clear thought that formed in his mind was _'Am I falling?'_ before his senses dulled completely and all that was left was darkness.

* * *

**Yeesh, I had some trouble with this chapter. It was wrestling me the entire way through, so hopefully that doesn't show too much.**

**I just wanted to say, that part about the bright colors playing in Troy's head as he was passing out is actually taken from reality. I've had my fair share of passing out in my brief history and, though its usually very difficult to remember afterwards, when I think really hard about it my brain tends to conjure these rather bizarre, brightly colored images. It's sort of like my brain falls asleep and I dream these neon colored images dancing around in front of a black curtain. And sometimes I am aware that I'm falling but by that point I'm too far gone to reverse it. So, anyway, I was trying to take that experience and give it to Troy to infuse a bit of truth into the story.**

**Finally, I promise there will be some actual, for real Troypay in the next chapter.**

**Now, please take a few moments to review!!**


	8. When Communication is Lacking

**Disclaimer: I don't own it**

When Communication is Lacking

"I just don't understand why you're still here, Sharpay. You're lucky I'm even letting you stay."

"_Letting_ me? Gabriella, that's not your decision, and what gives you the right to your superior little attitude in the first place?" Sharpay crossed her arms defensively over her chest and planted her feet, prepared for an old fashioned sparring of words with her high school nemesis.

"Hm, let me think. Maybe because I'm his girlfriend?" Gabriella replied right on beat and with her obligatory sarcastic tone.

"You certainly don't act like it." Sharpay said out of the side of her mouth as she looked away to emphasize her casual, yet suggestive statement. It was a line that carried heavy undertone accusations and Sharpay was sure to deliver the line perfectly.

Gabriella scoffed in complete indignation, taken aback by any suggestion that she's less than perfect in any way. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, I think you know what I mean," Sharpay said knowingly, her eyebrow quirked mockingly. Sensing that the argument was over, Sharpay dropped her arms and relaxed her posture, secure in the knowledge that she'd won this match.

Brushing past a still stunned Gabriella, Sharpay quickly took the hospital seat that was placed near Troy's head and silently prayed that he'd wake up soon, her mind replaying the past few hour's happenings in sickening clarity.

_

* * *

_

Sharpay rested her chin on her hand and stifled back a yawn. The crowd roared around her, its noise creating a sort of wall, isolating her in her own world inside her head. In theory she could understand why so many people enjoyed sports; she could just never get into it herself. Finding it too difficult to become engrossed in the game, Sharpay instead became distracted by the slutty clothing of a girl sitting a few rows ahead of her. She had the ugliest pair of countrified cut-off shorts on and her hair had enough glitter to rival even Sharpay during her sixth grade glitter phase.

_Sharpay wrinkled her nose in distaste and turned her gaze back to the basketball court just as she felt her phone vibrating in her pocket. Pulling it out, she saw it was from Troy. Sharpay glanced toward Berkeley's bench and smiled to herself at the sight of Troy bending forward, no doubt putting his phone back in his bag in a less than conspicuous manner._

_Sharpay opened the message and read: You here?_

_She was about to respond when, out of the corner of her eye, she saw Troy jump up off the bench and bounce over to his coach. The coach yelled some instructions into Troy's ear, his head bobbing up and down in understanding, then he bounded onto the court with the same confidence he'd worn at East High. Sharpay closed her phone distractedly, her eyes glued to Troy's every move as he darted forward, receiving the ball and instantly finding the perfect opportunity to make a basket._

_But instead of shooting the ball, he just stopped. The crowd roared even louder, the obnoxious cheers blending together and floating up to the rafters. But all that noise was nothing compared to the beating of Sharpay's heart pounding in her ears. Something was wrong, she just couldn't figure out what was going on. Why wasn't Troy moving?_

_The ball fell out of Troy's hand and a couple of U of A players dove for it. Sharpay wanted to scream at them all to stop playing. Don't they realize that something is wrong with Troy? Then, as if in slow motion, Troy started to fall back, one foot stepped back which helped in softening the landing, though it was a horrible sight, regardless._

"_TROOOYY!" Sharpay screamed and jumped to her feet. The crowd went quiet and the players stopped the game, everybody finally realizing that Troy needed help. Sharpay stood transfixed, staring as the paramedics rushed onto the court and worked with practiced hands, checking for injuries and transferring his unconscious body onto the ambulance scoop stretcher._

_The sight of the two paramedics lifting Troy's body and carrying him off the court finally worked to break Sharpay from her trance. Scrambling down the bleachers, not caring how many people she shoved ruthlessly aside, Sharpay scrambled to Josh's athletic bag and frantically searched through it to find his car keys. She then sprinted out the door and jumped in the car, racing behind the ambulance and Troy, following them to the hospital, all while typing a hasty text of explanation for Josh to find later._

_Of course, when she arrived at the hospital she was told by an overly cheerful nurse to "sit patiently in the waiting room" as the doctors examined Troy and ensured that nothing was fatally wrong with him. Unfortunately, the mere utterance of the word fatal sent Sharpay's mind reeling and she instantly lost any chance of being able to perform either task of sitting or waiting patiently. Instead, she paced the small room, counting her steps each round and forcing her mind to distraction. _

_It wasn't until the game at the University had ended that Gabriella showed up, instantly demanding answers and drawing every males attention with the very outfit that Sharpay had been mentally critiquing a mere hour earlier._

* * *

"Sharpay!"

Sharpay started out of her revere at the angry voice addressing her. She looked at the doorway and saw Josh, still wearing his game jersey, standing there with a glowering expression.

"Josh!" Sharpay said brightly, pretending not to notice his mood. "I'm so glad you got my text." Sharpay forced her cheery smile to remain on her face, not wanting to give any indication that she was actually feeling slightly fearful.

Josh's expression softened a touch, though his tone did not. "Come on, we need to get going."

"Oh, you go along to the hotel. I want to stay with Troy till he wakes up."

"We're not going to the hotel, Sharpay," Josh said as though she should have known this all along. "We have to get back to Albuquerque."

"What? Why?" Sharpay furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. Hadn't they made plans to stay in Berkeley the whole weekend?

"I have to work in the morning, just got the call. Come on! Just give me the keys and let's get going." Josh beckoned for the keys impatiently and Sharpay, too stunned to disobey, pulled them out of her purse and walked over to her boyfriend. She placed them in his hand and obediently followed him out the door.

Gabriella watched this entire exchange with an amused expression and chuckled out loud once they had left the room. "Serves her right," she muttered smugly to herself whilst fanning her own deluded sense of superiority.

* * *

To: "Sharpay Evans"

From: "Troy Bolton

Subject: Doctors visits are never like Scrubs makes them seem

You'll be the first person I've ever told this to but I used to want to be a doctor. When I was little I would get sick a lot and ended up getting rushed to the hospital on more than one occasion. It was always very scary but once I stepped into that office and saw my pediatricians jolly face I would instantly feel safe. After every visit he would hand me a cherry flavored lollipop and tell me that everything would be alright. And you know what? I believed him! I guess I just had no reason not to.

Yesterday wasn't like that. I don't know if it's because I've lost my ability to trust blindly or if it's just because this was a different doctor. But, either way, I was terrified. He said he doesn't know what's wrong with me. He said it could be something as simple as Anemia, in which case I'd just have to take some iron supplements. But it could be as bad as a heart problem. They want me to wear a heart monitor for a day next weekend. I know it's a good thing that he's insisting on checking but, at the moment, I'd much rather remain blissfully unaware of any possible issues. I just can't face it alone.

My mom used to be able to help me through stuff like this. Like the time I broke my leg on the playground. She held my weak hand in her strong hand and she refused to let any fear show on her face. It was her unending strength that passed through our linked hands and pushed aside my fear. I shouldn't complain, she did jump in the car the second she got your call, but she can't be strong this time. She's more scared than I am. This time I have to be the strong link. As much as I wanted to beg her to stay I had to assure her that everything was going to be ok and that she had to go back home. She can't be missing work all because of some problem that I only _might_ have.

Anyway, I just wanted to thank you for being there for me. Gabby told me that I woke up just after you left. I wish you could've stayed with me for a little bit. I feel safe when you're around. But I understand that you had to go.

Well, I just wanted to let you know what the doctor told me, and to tell you that everything will be alright.

~TROY

* * *

Troy read over his e-mail once, quickly checking for any blatant spelling errors then hit the send button. He'd so been looking forward to last weekend. So excited to hang out with Sharpay and show her around the campus. Leave it to him to screw everything up by passing out during his first Basketball game.

Now, he just had to hope that Sharpay wasn't having second thoughts about being his friend. She was supposed to have stayed the whole weekend but ended up going back home the same day she'd arrived. Why? And now half a week has gone by and Troy still hasn't yet heard from her. They hadn't gone this long without communicating since before they watched Newsies together in Sharpay's entertainment room.

"Oh my Gawd, Sarah, you are so dumb. Just tell him to suck it, who really gives a crap?" Gabriella's voice successfully interrupted Troy's anxious thoughts as she skipped into the dorm room chattering away on her phone. He'd told her on Saturday that he didn't need her to stay, that he'd be fine during the week. But Gabriella insisted on staying with him for a while longer, at least until she missed her Tuesday night class. Jordan was less than happy with this decision.

"Geez, I mean, like, double-yu-tee-eff?"

Troy glanced over at Jordan who had been completely engrossed in typing out his term paper before Gabriella had come in. He was now staring at her with his mouth slightly open in disbelief at the audacity of this girl's behavior. Did she not understand common decency? Troy didn't want to admit it, but he was on Jordan's side with this one. Gabriella was being disruptive during the dorm halls quiet hours and disrespectful to anyone who needed to use this time productively. He couldn't figure out what had gotten into her, this just wasn't the same girl he'd dated in high school.

Fortunately, Gabriella appeared to have finished her conversation with Sarah as she snapped her phone shut and looked over at Troy with her simpering, cutesy smile. A smile that he used to find charming but now just considered annoying.

"I'm so glad I can be here for you, Troysie!" She gushed as she climbed up the ladder to sit on top of Troy's lofted bed.

"Sure," Troy responded, finding himself distracted by his intense desire to sit in front of his computer and hit the refresh button for his inbox until he received Sharpay's reply.

"I mean, it's during trying times that you find yourself wanting to spend as much time as possible with the ones you love." Gabriella swung her legs up onto Troy's comforter, not bothering to take her shoes off, instead releasing clumps of dirt and grass onto his bed.

"You know, Gabriella? You are absolutely right!" Jordan replied from his position on the other side of the room in an uncharacteristically friendly tone. Gabriella beamed her triumphant smile as Jordan continued, "This is absolutely a time to spend with loved ones. And to be sure you don't waste time with those you don't love."

The last part of his statement was directed at Troy who was only half paying attention to the conversation. Troy paused, taking his eyes off of his computer screen and looking up at Gabriella thoughtfully, Jordan's words played over again in his mind. _Don't waste time with those you don't love_.

Still watching Gabriella, Troy saw her take a stray pencil and used it to dig the dirt out of the grooves on the bottom of her shoes. Again, on Troy's bed. Not even brushing the dirt off afterwards. _Spend time with those you love_. _Don't waste your time with those you don't_. Troy refreshed his inbox one more time and then looked over at Jordan. Jordan was glaring at Gabriella with a dark expression on his face before he noticed Troy's gaze. He then turned his attention to his roommate, adopting a pleading look that Troy could only guess at interpreting. _Don't waste your time with those you don't love_.

"Um, Gabriella?" Troy said suddenly, his voice rising ever so slightly. "I think we need to talk."

* * *

Sharpay slumped into her computer chair and pressed the button to boot up her laptop. She dropped her weary head into her hand and rubbed her temples as she waited for her desktop to load. This had definitely not been a good week. Josh seemed to be upset with her, despite his insistence to the contrary. However, Sharpay simply couldn't help but to notice a subtle coldness toward her. Also, the musical at the high school could not be going worse no matter how long she worked with Jimmy and her school work was really piling up.

No, definitely not a good start to the week.

Purely out of habit, Sharpay navigated straight to her e-mail inbox, instantly regretting it the moment she saw Troy's still unopened e-mail. Sharpay poised herself to open the e-mail but thought better of it. She just wasn't ready to be rejected by Troy. This week was bad enough already.

Sharpay closed the browser and stood from the desk, shutting her computer as she rose. Walking the three steps to her bed, she threw herself on her back and stared up at the canopy above her bed.

Troy had just been nice to her because he missed Gabriella. It is true that she wasn't taking much effort to stay in touch with him. He was probably just using her as a substitute for what he really wanted from his girlfriend. When Sharpay saw Gabriella at the hospital after Troy's fall, all her horrifying memories from high school came flooding back. And if her own memories were that bad, she couldn't even imagine the kind of memories that would come back to Troy. No, there definitely couldn't be anything good in that e-mail.

Getting up, Sharpay wandered out of her room, mentally composing her next voice message to Ryan. She had a lot to apprise him of.

* * *

Sharpay rang the doorbell nervously, shifting back and forth on her stiletto heals and trying to remember what she'd planned on saying.

All too quickly the door swung open and Mrs. Bolton stood on the other side, looking at Sharpay with a questioning gaze.

"Hi, Mrs. Bolton!" Sharpay said in her cheeriest voice.

"Oh, hi, um…" Mrs. Bolton continued to stare at Sharpay with that curious expression and Sharpay quickly realized that the two had never actually been properly introduced.

"Sharpay!" she quickly shouted, hoping she hadn't been too tactless. "Sharpay Evans. I'm a, um, friend. Of Troy's."

"Oh! Of course, do come in, Sharpay. I've heard all about you." Mrs. Boltons demeanor instantly became very warm as she ushered Sharpay into the kitchen. "What can I do for you?"

Sharpay smiled, still a little nervous. "Nothing, I just wanted to bring these cookies for you. I know it's been a tough week and I wanted to make sure you were doing alright."

Mrs. Bolton smiled and reached into one of the cupboards, pulling out two glasses. "That's very sweet of you. Would you like some milk?"

Sharpay nodded her ascent and opened up her Tupperware of chocolate chip cookies. They weren't anything special, certainly not like Zeke's artistic creations. But they were comforting, nonetheless.

"You know, Sharpay, I believe Troy has been trying to get a hold of you. He's been agonizing over it all week." Mrs. Bolton poured the milk into each glass casually, but Sharpay could tell that her every move was being scrutinized.

Being careful to not give anything away in her expression, Sharpay replied, "Yeah. I saw that he'd e-mailed. I've just been very busy this week. Didn't have time for anything, really, not even to talk to my brother." That last part was Sharpay's own little personal joke, considering it was Ryan who didn't seem to have the time for her.

Mrs. Bolton nodded. "I understand. Of course, only a few weeks left of the semester, the work starts to pile up. Yet, you had time to be here?"

"Oh," Sharpay looked down, embarrassed. She hadn't thought about that one. "The thing is, Mrs. Bolton. I already know what Troy is going to say to me, and I didn't want to read it just yet. I was hoping if I avoided the e-mail, I could pretend that we're still friends for a while longer."

"You think he regrets becoming friends with you?" Mrs. Bolton asked, her mind quickly putting both sides of the story together.

"Well, doesn't he? I mean, he has Gabriella. He doesn't really need me, any more."

"I wouldn't be so sure, honey," was all Mrs. Bolton replied with before changing to a less toxic subject.

After the two finished devouring the entire batch of cookies and shared one last laugh over what a joke decaf coffee is, Mrs. Bolton walked Sharpay to the door. As she held the door wide, Mrs. Bolton fixed Sharpay with a serious gaze and said, "Maybe it's time you read that e-mail."

Sharpay smiled, her anxiety written all over her face. "It's been nice talking to you, Mrs. Bolton."

* * *

Another weekend was about to begin and Troy found himself sitting in front of his computer in a miserable mood. He refreshed his inbox but then laughed at himself with disgust. Of course he wouldn't have received an e-mail within the last ten seconds, why even get any hope up? In an effort to distract himself from the growing belief that Sharpay has changed her mind about their friendship, he pulled the book from his biology class off his shelf. Best to be productive while sitting and waiting.

Troy opened to the seventeenth chapter (flowering plants and their importance to society) and started reading from the beginning. He'd only gotten half-way through the first page when a knock at his door interrupted his concentration. Troy sighed in irritation. He'd thought the entire dorm had figured out by now not to bother this room. Neither he nor Jordan appreciated the interruptions.

"Troy?" a familiar voice called from the hallway.

Troy stood up, his heart pounding. Could it be? No, don't get your hopes up. Stepping around the corner so that he could see clearly to the front door, Troy froze. His eyes went wide in surprise and a goofy grin spread widely across his face.

There she was, standing in the doorway. Her long blond hair curled perfectly, hanging loosely around her shoulders. She was wearing her signature color in her hot pink skinny jeans and a perfectly fitted, jewel encrusted tank top over them. Troy was in shock, completely at a loss for words.

"Well? Can I at least come in?" Sharpay said with a grin, though the authoritativeness never left her voice. She pulled her overstuffed, pink Louis Vuitton suit case through the door and approached a still frozen Troy cautiously.

"Hi," she said quietly, standing directly in front of him.

This seemed to do the trick as the air rushed out of him, his entire being almost collapsing from the relief. He unabashedly threw his arms around Sharpay's waste and squeezed tightly, hanging on as though he would never let go. "I'm so glad you're here," he whispered.

Sharpay smiled and silently returned the hug.

**

* * *

**

Did you catch my little allusion to HSM3, the championship game??? ["TROOOOY!!!"] hhahha, yeah. Sorry, it was lame.

**Also, I really have to apologize; it seems I lied to you. I didn't mean to, the chapter just wasn't moving at the right pace to get to the real Troypay. You see, I'm not the kind of writer who has everything planned out to the letter. I just know generally where we're going and the bones of how we're going to get there. But sometimes when I'm actually writing out the scene I realize that a certain part is much more important than I'd originally planned or a character starts to take over. Like in this one, Gabriella had decided she wasn't ready to leave just yet. Trust me, that wasn't my decision. Anyway, when I found the natural ending to the chapter it was earlier than I'd planned.**

**But I can promise that it will be in the next chapter. Because there's no possible way that it couldn't be.**

**Anyway, I hope the chapter was still alright. Please tell me in the review!!**


	9. Getting to Know the Enemy, Part One

**Disclaimer: I don't own them**

Getting to Know the Enemy

Part One

"You broke up?!"

"We're on a break. Slight difference."

Sharpay waved her hand, dismissing Troy's latest qualifying statement.

"Oh my god," she said, still sounding slightly confused. Stepping past where Troy was standing in the middle of the extremely tiny dorm room, Sharpay took a seat in Jordan's desk chair. "Who would've guessed that Troy and Gabriella, the King and Queen of East High, would split up? The couple that was too perfect to keep apart would now be apart? The relationship that broke barriers would now be broken in two? The picture perfect –"

"Ok, that's enough." Sharpay chuckled as Troy threw himself down onto the futon mattress that was lying on the floor beneath his lofted bed.

"So, you get the heart monitor on tomorrow?" Sharpay asked, changing the subject.

Troy nodded distractedly.

"Everything's going to be fine. I don't think you have to worry."'

"Sure," Troy replied, his mind still focused somewhere else.

"I brought stuff for us to do while you're wearing whatever it is that they put on you," she continued brightly, hoping to distract Troy from whatever was bothering him. Getting up, Sharpay shuffled the three steps it took to get to the other side of the room and picked up her Gigi Chantal handbag.

"I brought movies!" Reaching in to the bag, she pulled out three dvd cases. Two of the cases carried professional titles with computer generated designs darning the cover. The last was in a smaller case with the cover hand drawn and East High's drama club logo in the bottom corner. Catching a glimpse of the third case in her hand, Sharpay quickly dropped it back in her bag with a nervous laugh and said, "Come to think of it, we won't be watching that one."

Troy smiled and shifted his position in an attempt to show that he was actually paying attention to her. He was slouching into the back of the futon cushion with his legs sprawled out to the side. One arm was resting on his stomach, the other elbow bent with his hand behind his head, a glimpse of armpit visible as his t-shirt sleeve had fallen down toward his shoulder.

"I also brought madlibs and coloring books which were, sorry to say, the most interesting items in the gas station. And finally," Sharpay reached down to the bottom of her bag and grabbed hold of a slightly larger item, "for Sunday, after the heart monitor is off, we can celebrate with this!" Sharpay pulled her hand out of her bag and held up her prize triumphantly in the air.

"Excellent," Troy laughed when he saw the big bottle of Skyy Vodka in her hand.

"Of course, if you want anything to mix with it, we'll need to pick that up later."

Troy smiled and Sharpay easily returned the expression. Groaning with the exertion, Troy stood up off of the floor and approached Sharpay where she was still positioned in the middle of the room. Standing so close to her, he could feel the heat rising off of her skin, he said in a soft voice, "Thank you, Sharpay. This is exactly what I needed."

Sharpay nodded with a small, reassuring smile. Intending to put the vodka in the freezer of the mini-fridge for her, Troy tried to grab the bottle from Sharpay's hand. Startled, Sharpay didn't let go immediately. Instead, she and Troy stood stock still staring into each other's eyes, each with one hand firmly holding onto the bottle. Sharpay could feel the energy building around them. She could sense it as if it were visible particles encircling their small space and filling her ears with its pleasant humming and blocking out the rest of the world from their intimate moment. Her eyes were locked to his. She first returned his gaze as powerfully as he did. But soon her eyes started to slowly slide down his face, examining every feature and every pore, until they reached his mouth. A mouth she used to fantasize about. Oh, the things she had wanted that mouth to do to her. Heat flushed to her face as some new fantasies popped into her mind and goose bumps raised the hair on her skin. Her breathing came quicker and her heart started to pound louder –

The squeak of the doorknob being forced out of its still position broke the spell. Startled, Troy ripped the bottle of vodka out of Sharpay's hand and lurched toward the freezer in one sudden movement as Sharpay jumped in surprise and dropped back into the same desk chair she'd previously occupied.

"Troy! I just heard some guys talking about this totally hot chick walking around–and I didn't realize we had company," Jordan smiled a charming smile and extended his hand toward Sharpay. "Please, disregard my previous statement. You must be, Sharpay?"

"Of course. And I'm going to take a wild guess and say you're Jordan." Sharpay said as she placed her hand in Jordan's.

Jordan laughed, "I like you better, already."

"Well, it was great to meet you Jordan, we'll have to talk more later. But Troy and I were just on our way out. He's going to show me the campus, right Troy?"

Troy, who was still standing in front of the open mini-fridge, finally closed the door and looked back at the other two over his shoulder. "Oh! Um, that's right. My own personalized campus tour."

"Great!" Sharpay smiled her triumphant smile once again and grabbed her much emptier handbag, flouncing out of the room. "Toodles, Jordan!"

Troy grabbed his room key, greeted Jordan's grin with a shrug and a smile and quickly followed after Sharpay, out of the room and onto the campus grounds.

* * *

"So, how does it feel?" Sharpay asked as she and Troy stepped out of the cold, stale hospital into the bright, California sunshine.

"Um," Troy regarded the blunt, heavy object hanging around his waste, "sticky."

"What?" Sharpay giggled as she slid into the drivers seat of her dusty, yet still fabulous, pink convertible mustang.

"All these wires are connected by these heavy duty stickers on my chest. It's just, kind of…sticky," He shrugged.

"Oh. Well, it does make you look pretty pathetic. We should definitely try to capitalize on this!"

"Or, I'll stay in the car and you can run into the store by yourself."

"Fine, just ruin all the fun," Sharpay grumbled good-naturedly as she pulled into a parking spot near the Whole Foods that was located a block away from the hospital.

Jumping out of the car, Sharpay quickly ran into the large, overly air-conditioned grocery store to pick up the few items that she and Troy agreed they'd need to survive the day. Beginning in the produce, Sharpay grabbed the fruit that she most enjoyed figuring that she wouldn't have much trouble fighting it away from Troy. She then ran over to the dry goods and grabbed a big bag of cheetos, some sugar cookie dough and a small box of plastic spoons as well as some sliced turkey, swiss cheese and a small loaf of Italian bread. Her last stop was, of course, by the coffee bar to pick up two high comfort (low calorie) non-fat, soymilk lattés.

"Mmmm, coffee!" Troy exclaimed the minute Sharpay got back to the car.

"Talk about one-stop shopping," she replied as she dropped her grocery bags into the back seat. "And now, to the beach!"

* * *

"Verb?"

"Um…massacre."

"Noun?"

"Turkey."

"Finally, adjective?"

"Grumpy."

"All right, here goes," Troy said, filling in the last blank in the Stardust plot-summary madlib. "In the mythical kingdom of Albuquerque, a lovesick young garden gnome tries to rub a fallen star to take to his itch. Little does he know that the garden gnome has turned into a toothbrush, played by Claire Danes, and that a scheming Drag Queen is also eager to massacre the celestial turkey in the hopes of staying young and grumpy forever."

Troy and Sharpay, half delirious from their day in the sun, fell into a fit of giggles. They were lying on top of a tattered old quilt on the beach, food wrappers lying all around them, most of it already devoured, and their coloring books and madlibs almost entirely filled in. A cool breeze was coming in off of the San Francisco bay as the sun began its descent from its high place in the sky.

"Here," Troy said after their laughter had died down. "Have the last of the cookie dough spoons."

"Ugh," Sharpay groaned, sitting up to receive the spoon. "I can not believe I'm allowing myself to be seen in public after eating that much food!"

"Shut up!" Troy laughed. "You look amazing and you know it."

Sharpay grinned. "I know! I just wanted to hear it." She put the spoon in her mouth and settled back into the blanket, gazing at the beautiful, clear sky and sighing with content.

Troy leaned back on his elbows, propping himself up just enough to catch a view of the water. He'd been at Berkeley for almost three months now, yet this was his first time to the beach. Granted, this was one of the few days while at school that the temperature has been unseasonably pleasant enough to enjoy the beach, he still thought it sad that he'd never tried. It's a great escape from everyday life.

Another cool breeze rolled through causing Sharpay to shiver. Before she even realized what had happened, Troy had pulled her close to his side, wrapping his arm around her and offering his body as a shield to the cold air. Smiling to herself, Sharpay curled into his side, her arm resting on his chest, her head lying against his shoulder. Troy hugged her in close, his hand rubbing the goose bumps on her arm and his head resting atop hers.

"Troy?" Sharpay asked, finally breaking the silence that had fallen, her voice slightly muffled by Troy's t-shirt.

"Hm?" He responded, his entire being completely relaxed.

"What changed? With Gabriella? What caused you guys to take a break?"

Troy took in a deep breath of air and let it out slowly, his lips pursed together tightly as he thought it over. "I don't know, everything, I guess. We both changed. I mean, I'd always heard that people change in college, I'd just thought we'd change in the same direction."

"So, how did she change?"

"Oh, I guess it would be her reserve. She doesn't seem to be quite so shy any more. Ha, that makes me sound so shallow. But she's loud, now, and obnoxious. At least, she was the few moments I got to spend with her these past few months."

"So, she's good at college?" Sharpay asked, implying more than strong academic abilities in her question.

"Yeah, I guess you could say that. It's like she's decided she has to experience the stereotypical college experience and it's ended up taking over her entire personality."

"Hmm," Sharpay thought that over, trying to imagine the new Gabriella on the stage back at East High. "How have you changed?"

"Oh, that's a tough one. I think I'm a little more timid now. I don't want to be, but sometimes I feel like this university is draining my soul right from my body." Troy snorted a short bark of laughter and used his free arm to cover his eyes. "That sounds so melodramatic. Forget I said that."

"No! No," Sharpay protested lightly. "I kind of know what you mean. Sometimes I feel like Ryan has this weird invisible connection where every time I call him and he doesn't answer, ok, any time I call him, a little bit of my soul gets ripped out and sent into a gaping whole of nothingness. But that sounds a bit melodramatic, as well."

Troy laughed and nodded his understanding. He'd never thought he'd tell anybody that thought about his soul, but he had to admit, it was comforting hearing the same notion repeated back to him. At least somebody else understands where he's coming from.

"You know, you've changed, too," Troy said.

"Ugh, don't tell me. I'm nicer than I was in high school. I don't scheme and connive and try to get my own way. Yeah, I've changed and now people can pretend to like me more." Sharpay replied, rolling her eyes and trying to get rid of the intense disgust that suddenly boiled up inside of her.

"No! Well, I mean, yes, but that's not what I was going to say. And, you know, I never really minded your conniving in high school. Probably because it didn't work, but I always thought it showed your passion. I do get it now; you were just trying to protect what had always been yours before we all, kind of, barged in on you. Though, I still think you could've been a tiny bit more welcoming, but hindsight is twenty-twenty."

Sharpay sighed, "yeah," was all she replied with. She tried not to think about high school too much. It can't do her any good any more. "So, what were you going to say?"

"Oh," Troy paused, "I was just going to say that you are less defensive about yourself. And I think that's because you are more confident. More independent. You don't need other people to prove your self worth because you already know it."

"Is that what you think?" Sharpay smiled to herself disbelieving. If that were true, she certainly hadn't been apprised of the change. If anything, she felt less independent and less confident, instead just feeling the greater need to prove she possesses these two qualities.

The conversation slowed as they both thought over the changes that had happened so quickly in such a short amount of time. Sharpay was thinking about how nice this day had turned out to be, immediately becoming saddened by the thought of it ending in just twenty-four hours time. Troy, on the other hand, was thinking back to high school, about how content he'd been with his small group of friends all in one place and able to hang out most any night. Of course, back then he'd never have a day like today. Which seemed to have reminded him–

"You know, you never really answered my question two summers ago."

"What question was that?" Sharpay murmured, nuzzling closer to Troy as the cool air settled in more closely around them.

"Why didn't you like just singing. Why did everything have to be so big when you performed?"

"I would've thought you'd have figured that out by now. I think the more appropriate question is: why weren't you and Gabriella ever in the choir? That is exactly what you described, after all. Choirs stand in one place on stage with a single lighting scheme that is usually unflattering with those hideously bright robes as they sing their songs and stand statically in place. But, that just isn't me. I'm a performer. I want to be on Broadway, someday. These big productions were how I showcased all my talents, and that included dancing and acting. That's why I liked everything big. Because I wanted to get the audience involved as I did my thing. I wanted it to be the epitome of entertaining."

Troy gave that some thought then laughed quietly to himself. "Like I said, hindsight is twenty-twenty."

**

* * *

**

Well, again, my chapters end up much longer than expected. I tried to spatter some smaller Troypay moments in there. I don't know, in other stories I usually end up liking the conversations between the two the most, so I tried to make some good conversations here. I really wanted it to show the difference between their relationship and Troy and Gabriella's relationship (both in this story and what's been portrayed in the movies). I want these two to have more of a connection other than some on screen chemistry (which I never thought was as strong as Zac and Ashley's chemistry, I'm just sayin')

**Here's a little fun fact: the Whole Foods really is a block away from the hospital! Because who doesn't think about food the second they escape from a place like that??**

**Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it. Leave me a review!!!**


	10. Getting to Know the Enemy, Part Two

**Disclaimer: I only own Jordan. And the dorm room in which they live.**

Getting to Know the Enemy

Part two

Troy opened his eyes. This waking up at three o'clock in the morning thing had become so routine that he was no longer surprised at having woken up in the first place. In fact, he expected it. Sitting up he rubbed the gunk out of his eyes and glanced at his phone.

3:05 AM.

Oh, well, what do you know? A whole extra five minutes of sleep. What luck. Troy kicked his blankets to the end of his bed and rearranged his shirt, pulling it back from where it had twisted around his body during sleep. His hand caught on a protruding wire and he was momentarily surprised to feel an uncomfortable yank from the corresponding sticker still glued to his chest.

Right. The heart monitor.

Pushing any worry that might be bubbling up to the side, Troy picked up the unwanted device and carried it with him as he climbed out of his bed. As was customary for this point in his day, Troy grabbed the first set of clothing he came upon and was just about to undress in the middle of the room when something sparkly beneath his bed caught his attention. Straining his eyes in the darkness, he realized it was Sharpay's pink and diamond Tag Heuer watch. He paused, gazing at her sleeping form. Something about her slack mouth and mussed hair made her seem so much more real to him. Despite her efforts to appear fabulous and untouchable, Troy liked her best when she was simply normal.

Not wanting to wake her, Troy finished changing and quickly snuck out of the room, grabbing his laptop on his way out. Some routines are impossible to change.

* * *

"_Hey guys, you've called Ryan. I'm doing something more interesting right now so leave a message and I'll ring you later. Peace."_

"Hey Ry, I haven't talked to your voicemail in a while and I just wanted to catch you up. Plus, Troy's getting his heart monitor thing taken off right now so I figured talking to you would distract me from all the wrinkles on the people around me–"

The man sitting in the waiting room chair next to Sharpay's gave a blunt "Harumph" after her statement. Scrunching her nose in distaste (as well as at the smell emanating from the seat opposite her) Sharpay squeezed herself as far from the person next to her and as close to the wall on her other side as was physically possible. She turned her head away from the disgruntled man and held back a choked gag before she continued with her message.

"Anyway, yuck. Ahem," she cleared her throat. "Anyway, I was thinking, maybe instead of beginning my career on Broadway in New York, I can do some pre-Broadway Musicals in Los Angeles. Before you say anything, because we're twins and I know what you're thinking, just hear me out. The quality of these pre-Broadway shows are considerably improved and the prestige is growing. I mean, it won't exactly be embarrassing to be a part of, right? Besides, maybe Los Angeles is more my style, don't you think? I kind of wanted to get your thoughts on the subject. I know it's a departure from the original plan, but hey? When have my plans worked out? Anyway, I'd better go. Talk to your voicemail soon!"

Sharpay clicked End on her phone and looked up just in time to see Troy step through the swinging door that led to the patient's rooms. He paused and glanced around the waiting area for a moment before he spotted Sharpay rising from her seat in the far corner. Troy smiled as he watched her stumble through the outstretched legs of all the people occupying the surrounding seats, enjoying the annoyed scowls and baffled looks they gave her. In her red and black asymmetrical mini-dress, she did seem a bit out of place. But, then again, what was new?

* * *

"So, what did the doctor say?"

They were sitting casually next to each other on the futon cushion in Troy's dorm that had been doubling as Sharpay's bed. The thoroughly chilled bottle of vodka was sitting open on the floor between them and many half gallon cartons of various juices were laid out in a half-circle around them. The celebration of the removal of the heart monitor was about to begin.

"Nothing. I didn't meet with him. Just a nurse who pretty much ripped the monitor off of me and shoved me back out the door. I guess they'll call me if anything's up." Troy shrugged, hoping he didn't sound worried.

He sounded worried.

"I'm sure you'll have no need to ever hear from them again."

Troy sucked in a deep breath and held it, his shoulders tensed from the action and his mind lost in thought. Sharpay, sensing the building strain around them, became increasingly uncomfortable. She started to inch away from Troy in the hope that less physical contact may relieve the tension and glanced at her watch furtively.

Nervous that she had overstayed her welcome, and calculating the amount of time it would take her to drive back home, Sharpay sighed dramatically and said in her best performance voice, "Well, I'd better get going. I've got classes in the morning that I should make and I'll need my beauty sleep." She stretched her arms in a failed attempt to appear casual and pulled herself up using the side of Troy's desk. She yanked her purse onto her shoulder and was about to grab her suitcase and leave the room, slightly depressed, when Troy finally interrupted her movement.

"You can't go yet!" He said, is voice almost a whine. "You promised you'd celebrate with me, remember?"

Sitting up from his slouched lounge, Troy reached forward and grabbed the bottle of vodka. Holding it to his lips, he took in a gulp, then instantly brought the nearest juice carton to his mouth and washed the entire mouthful down with a gulp of apple concentrate. He scrunched his face up in mild aversion as the after taste filled his mouth, then smiled brightly. Looking up at Sharpay once more he held the bottle in the air for her to take.

Sharpay smiled, relief washing through her. "Alright," she conceded. "But just for a little bit. I _will_ have to be getting back soon."

* * *

"Here! Try this one!" Sharpay yelled excitedly, her volume control gone with the last gulp of whatever mix she'd ended up with.

"OK," Troy opened his mouth as wide as he could and looked up, waiting for Sharpay to pour her next concoction. Taking the vodka in one hand and the carton of white grape juice in the other, she intended to pour them both into his mouth at the same time. Unfortunately, her bad aim was enhanced and the drink ended up all over Troy's face. Troy sputtered, surprised, and rubbed at his eyes, trying desperately to get the drink out.

Noticing that Sharpay was laughing at him, he shook his head wildly, his hair flying out, and the liquid that was previously dripping off of his face went in every which direction. Sharpay shrieked and tried to shield herself from the onslaught, but to no avail. She ended up splattered with just as much sticky juice and alcohol as Troy had.

They both broke out into a fit of laughter at the absurdity of their actions and Sharpay grabbed the bottom of Troy's shirt, using it to wipe her face off. Troy, on the otherhand, grabbed the vodka to drink what was left at the bottom.

"Uh oh," he said, holding the bottle up to his eye and staring through the mouth.

"What?" Sharpay asked, a trace of actual concern in her voice.

"We need more to drink," Troy answered matter-of-factly, instantly standing up to get more to drink. He paused a moment, swaying, as his vision clouded over but it soon came back and he was able to reach his hand down to offer it to Sharpay.

Sharpay placed her hand lightly in Troy's, who used more strength than he actually needed to pull her to her feet, her light weight taking him by surprise. She ended up stumbling forward, straight into his arms. Troy caught her shoulders and held her steady, his hands holding on tighter than was necessary. Sharpay regained her balance and was ready to follow Troy out the door, but he had yet to let go of her. Looking up, she saw a strange expression on his face but she didn't think to ask about it, instead staring intently into his eyes and wondering if she'd ever learn to truly read them.

Then the entire moment was over. Troy broke their contact suddenly and walked swiftly out of the dorm room as though there weren't any heated undercurrents to their energies.

"You coming?" he called to her from the hallway.

"Oh! Right," Sharpay quickly gathered herself and scurried out of the room after him.

* * *

Sharpay grabbed the second bottle of vodka and tipped it back, sucking down the last gulp left inside, not even bothering to delude it with juice. Giggling, she sank back into the futon, slumping unevenly to her side, landing flush against Troy's side. Her head lolled back then dropped onto Troy's shoulder. Closing her eye's, Sharpay's giggling softened, leaving a serene smile on her face. The empty vodka bottle dropped onto the ground, but neither seemed to notice.

Troy, whose head was lying back against the futon cushion, had his eyes closed. But when Sharpay landed at his side, his senses quickly rose to high alert.

"Do you wanna know a secret?" Sharpay murmured, her voice drowsy.

Troy shifted so that his arm was around Sharpay's back, allowing them to lie together more comfortably. "Always," he responded.

"Most of my clothes aren't designer." Sharpay started giggling wildly. Infected with her laughter, Troy joined in despite being slightly confused with her statement. Sharpay's body was shaking with her laughter and Troy found it even more difficult to concentrate with the potent combination of alcohol, Sharpay's unusual secret, and her body moving next to his.

"Wait, wait," he tried to stop his laughing and had to wait until Sharpay's had slowed. He rubbed his eyes and tried to make his mind focus, but he'd already forgotten what he was going to say. "Wait," he said again, "what?"

Sharpay giggled again then said, "Mommy and Daddy had this new-age method of parenting when Ry and I were growing up. They didn't want to get us spoiled, so they put us on allowances." Sharpay started laughing again and Troy's mind started to wander. He pulled Sharpay in closer, enjoying the contact between their bodies, and Sharpay responded by wrapping her arms around his waste.

"We'd get designer stuff as gifts all the time, but most of my clothes I actually made myself," she continued, her mind seemingly stuck on telling Troy this secret. "Nana Raffi taught me how to sew when I was twelve."

Troy started to rub Sharpay's arm lightly with just the tips of his fingers, her skin breaking out in goose bumps wherever he touched.

Sharpay sighed, "That feels good," but Troy wasn't sure if she was referring to his touching her or to the fact that she'd gotten that secret off her chest.

They stopped talking, instead enjoying just laying together. Sharpay started to hum softly and used her finger to outline the design on Troy's shirt. Troy closed his eyes once more, enjoying the sensation. All too soon he felt her finger leave his shirt and he was surprised at the level of disappointment he felt. But before his spirits dropped too far, her hand reappeared beneath his shirt, tracing an imagined design with her finger directly on his chest. Troy shivered, though her finger left a blazing trail in its wake.

Troy opened his eyes and looked down to see Sharpay gazing up at him with a silly grin on her face. He felt the need to return the smile but never did. Instead, another thought shoved its way into his head and took over his motions before any rational thought could catch up. Moving his hand from her arm, Troy placed it at the base of Sharpay's neck, guiding her head back a little more as he leaned his own head down and met her mouth in a kiss.

It started out soft but Troy's uninhibited instincts took over as the heat between them rose. He pressed harder, met with the same force from Sharpay, tracing her mouth with his tongue, silently begging to take this further. To his utter delight, she obliged, and their tongues met in a timeless battle. Troy wrapped his arms around Sharpay's back and pulled her closer to him, their semi-vertical position on the futon proving too difficult to maneuver. Without breaking contact, Troy easily shifted Sharpay onto her back, he on top, his strong arms holding him up and keeping him from crushing her petite frame.

"Wait. Stop."

As quickly as all of this had begun, it came to a sudden end as Troy felt Sharpay's surprisingly strong arms push his shoulders away from her. For a brief moment frustration registered on Troy's face but he soon saw the mischievous glint in Sharpay's eye's and he realized that it hadn't actually ended at all. Troy sat up on his knees and Sharpay joined, facing him. She then leaned down, her eyes never leaving Troy's, and grabbed the hem of her dress, pulling it up and over her head in one swift motion. Troy stared, stunned, at the beautiful girl, now clad in only her matching underwear.

Sharpay laid back on the futon again and fixed Troy with a seductive look. Way past the point of thinking, Troy answered Sharpay's look by ripping off his own shirt and throwing it across the room, his pants hitting the ground before the shirt had even landed. Fumbling, Troy threw himself down on his side, next to Sharpay. Snaking his arm behind her neck, he met her drunken gaze with an elated grin. Sharpay placed both of her hands on either one of Troy's cheeks and guided his head down to meet hers in another kiss; this one equally as passionate as the last.

But this time, Troy was the one to break away, moving his lips away from hers in a scorching trail down her chin and neck. Sharpay arched her head back, exposing more of her neck to Troy's lips and sighed contentedly, running her hands through his thick hair. Troy focused his attention on the rest of Sharpay's body, his hand sliding down her side, feeling the bump of each slightly exposed rib. His fingers continued their trail down her waist, over her hip bone and ending at the top of her thigh where he grabbed hold possessively.

Troy then began teasing her, tracing circles along the inside of her thigh, moving tantalizingly slowly up her leg until his fingers grazed the outside of her silk underwear. Sharpay moaned with pleasure, squirming beneath his touch and shifting her legs so that Troy was lying between them, fitting their body's together as though they always belonged there. Troy's mouth moved back up its trail, ending on top of Sharpay's, his thumb reaching down and hooking itself through her panties. He started to slide them down slowly but Sharpay, unable to wait any longer, ripped them out of his grip and kicked them off with ease as Troy did the same.

Repositioning themselves, Sharpay took a deep breath and met Troy's gaze, wondering what that emotion was playing beneath the surface. But she didn't wonder for long as the heat of Troy's body closed in around her, erasing all thought from her mind and suspending time indefinitely.

* * *

Sharpay jerked awake suddenly from her deep sleep. She sat up, instantly regretting the motion as her eyes went out of focus and her face broke out in a cold sweat. Thanks to the strong drinking genes in her family, she rarely got ill when she drank. But this was definitely going to be a hangover for the record books. Glancing at her watch, Sharpay saw that it was only three o'clock in the morning. But, for whatever reason, she couldn't shake the feeling that she'd done something horribly wrong the night before.

Looking around, Sharpay evaluated her surroundings, wondering why she wasn't back home like she was supposed to be. Then, a loud snort and the sound of a rustling cushion drew her attention back to where she'd been laying. Right there, right next to her, was a very naked Troy lying sound asleep with the most peaceful expression she'd ever seen him wear on his face. He was lying on his stomach, one arm supporting his head and the other stretched across the expanse of cushion that she had previously occupied.

It was then that Sharpay finally realized her own nakedness and, in that instant, every event from their night together coursed through her memory. Every drink, every touch, every moan.

Everything.

Sharpay jumped up in horror, ignoring the protests from her dehydrated body. Feeling the intense urge to get away, Sharpay located her various clothing that was scattered all across the small room and threw it on, covering any humility that had not been present the night before. She grabbed her suitcase and, being sure not to wake Troy, tip-toed out of the room and into the brightly lit hallway. The entire way back to her car, she had only one thought repeating itself in her head:

'_Oh, shit!'_

* * *

"OH, SHIT!"

Troy woke very suddenly at the shouted obscenity. He took a deep breath and squeezed his eyes shut, not too happy with how he was feeling.

"Damn, Troy!" The voice continued, its volume barraging Troy's sensitive ears. Finally, Troy opened his eyes, shocked to find that it was already light out. He looked at the clock and was stunned to see that he'd slept through his natural three o'clock wake-up call. When was the last time that had happened?

"Dude, cover yourself up!"

Self-consciously, Troy grabbed the blanket that was rumpled at his feet and pulled it up to his waste. "Jordan?" he asked, only now making the connection between the voice and the timed return of his roommate. "Where's Sharpay?" Troy voiced the next thought that popped into his head as his mind replayed their night together.

Jordan turned from where he had been refolding his newly cleaned laundry that he'd dumped on his bed and couldn't help but to laugh at Troy's expression, guessing with alarming accuracy at what Troy was remembering. Shaking his head, he turned back to his folding. _'Poor boy's got it bad.'_

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Of course, my own insecurities in my writing abilities make me nervous to post this. Hopefully it lives up to all ya'll's expectations. I tried really hard to stick close to that line dividing too much information and reality.

**Sorry for taking a while to update. The combination of rl exhaustion and trying to make this chapter just right really did me in. But I made it a little longer for your reading pleasure…**

**So please reciprocate! The pleasure I get from reading your reviews makes it all so wonderful.**

**~~~~~~ETA: Very sad news today regarding Farrah Fawcett and Michael Jackson ------ R.I.P. and I hope their families are receiving all the support they need.**


	11. Changes to Come

**Disclaimer: As always, I own nothing**

Changes to Come

Sharpay reached her hand into her jacket pocket and discreetly pressed the button on the side of her phone, successfully silencing its slight buzzing. Mrs. Evans looked back at her and gave a subtle though very shrewd look, warning her not to disrupt the celebratory mood. Sharpay nodded and quickly looked away, her annoyance with the world around her getting the best of her façade.

"Alright, everybody. Put on her happy faces, I think I see him!" Mr. Evans instructed the trio as they stood in perfect formation in the middle of the airports luggage claim. Sharpay released a heavy sigh before purposefully arranging her features in a pleasantly welcoming manner. This was the first time she'd be seeing Ryan in months, after all. She should be welcoming him home pleasantly, not angrily like she was currently feeling.

Sharpay craned her neck, peering over her parents shoulders, searching for a glimpse of her absent twin brother. It had been so long since she'd last spoken to him, she actually felt a twinge of fear in the pit of her stomach. She didn't know what to expect, with flashes of numerous wild changes in his appearance and attitude flashing through her mind and increasing her anxiety.

However, these images were soon put to rest when she saw a familiar bright green bowler hat bobbing through the crowd on the head of a tall blonde boy wearing flamboyant, yet stylish, matching clothing. Clothing, it should be noted, that didn't have a single wrinkle in them, as if Ryan had not just spent the past three hours on a cramped, stuffy airplane.

"My boy!" Mr. Evans greeted his son formally. His arms were held wide and a proud smile was on his face as Ryan took the final few steps towards them. With a grin, Ryan approached his father and thrust his hand forward, meeting his dad's hand halfway and giving a firm, almost business-like hand shake. As the Evans children had always been taught, why hug when a hand-shake is just as good?

"Ducky," Mrs. Evans crooned, waiting her turn politely to greet her prodigal son.

"Hi mommy," Ryan returned, kissing her on the cheek and then stepping back to allow his mother to appraise him. Mrs. Evans gave an approving nod and moved aside to finally reveal Sharpay.

Ryan glanced at her and quickly looked away with a clouded expression blanking any emotion from his eyes. "Hey sis," he said casually, without feeling.

"Ryan," Sharpay returned, cautiously, naive of the background from which this behavior was coming.

"Excellent," Mr. Evans boomed, unaware of the strained atmosphere between his two children. "Shall we go?" He asked to nobody in particular as he turned on his heal and marched out the door, leading the familial processional all the way to the car.

* * *

"Troy, honey, make sure that your shirt is tucked in nicely and come downstairs. We have guests!" Mrs. Bolton turned, slightly exasperated, and faced the room before her with a brave face. If she had to be stuck with the Bolton side of the family for the afternoon, than there was no way Troy would get to hide out in his room.

Troy shoved his hand down his pants several times in a lame attempt to straighten his shirt than headed on heavy feet down the stairs. He wasn't sure he could take one more inquiry about his life. Why did everybody expect him to have the answers when he wasn't even sure if he'd made the right decisions?

"Troy!" a great booming voice greeted him as his foot hit the final landing.

"Uncle Howard! How are you?" Troy asked, trying his best to be polite for his traditional relative.

"Oh, just dandy ever since I got the new battery for my old ticker," he thumped his chest, indicating where his "ticker" was located and gave Troy an overly exaggerated wink. Troy laughed nervously and tried to back away without causing offense. He knew it was common practice for his aunts and uncles to spend their holiday's discussing their various ailments but he was in no mood to partake in this kind of talk this year. His own ailments were still too high on his list of anxieties for him to be able to listen to the discussion without instantly thinking he'd acquired the symptoms.

"But let's not talk about this old fudder," Troy's uncle continued amiably. "I want to hear about your girl!"

For a split second Troy thought his uncle was referring to Sharpay, but he quickly remembered that that would be quite impossible. In fact, nobody in the room except for himself even knew there was anything less than fairy-tale endings going on between him and is….former?.....girlfriend.

"So?" Uncle Howard prompted after Troy had only responded to his proclamation by standing awkwardly, eyes flicking back and forth as his mind seemed to be reeling over something undoubtedly important. "How is the little academia fairing on the west coast?"

"Oh! Um, she's fairing….quite….quite well. I suppose…" Troy trailed off, his eyes flickering again as his mind took off in another direction. Troy thought about the way Gabriella seemed to have fallen off the deep end on the 'west coast', as his uncle had so daftly put it, and he silently wondered how it was possible for one person to change so quickly.

"Wonderful! That is wonderful to hear. Speaking of hearing, is that wedding bells I hear in your future?" Uncle Howard cupped his hand to his ear and pretended to listen to a bell ring on the smooth sound waves through time.

"I - um…what?" Troy asked, completely perplexed.

"Don't lose your breath, boy. I just thought, you'd followed her all the way to California. This relationship is obviously heading in the chapels direction."

"Right." Troy only wanted to laugh casually, to indicate that he was only pretending to be confused. Unfortunately, his nerves had been shot with this conversation and his laugh came out at a much more hysterical tenor. That mixed with his sweating, nervous behavior, gave Troy the air of a lunatic in need of an asylum.

Not understanding why this conversation was so distressing to Troy, Uncle Howard decided to simply move onto a more neutral topic. "So, Troy, how goes the basketball?"

"TROY!" a grovely voice that indicated of heavy nicotine abuse called from across the room.

Grateful to have any excuse to leave this conversation entirely, Troy jumped at the sound of his name. Smiling at his uncle politely, he quickly excused himself and scurried to the other side of the room where his other uncle, Rex, was situated.

"Thought you might've needed an 'scape," he growled in a gruff whisper, his eyes twinkling as he spoke.

Troy sighed and nodded in appreciation.

"Nothin' like holiday's with the fam'ly," Rex said with a chuckle and a shake of his head.

* * *

"Children, come downstairs. Rosa has fixed us a beautiful Turkey dinner!"

Sharpay cringed as her mother's voice clicked off of the intercom. The car ride turned out to be enough of a reunion with her brother. His stories of self-importance and perpetual glory were enough to make her nauseous and she was sure he wouldn't be bothered by her absence. In fact, he barely seemed to have noticed her presence, not once addressing her personally.

Whatever. She was fine with it. It's not like she couldn't get along without him. She'd been doing it all semester, hadn't she?

Sharpay stood slowly and brushed her skirt down with her hands. Wrinkles were not acceptable at family dinner; even less so at holiday dinner. Taking a deep breath and squaring her shoulders, Sharpay opened her door and proceeded down the empty hallway and to the dining room.

Both her parents and Ryan were already seated when she stepped in the room, and all talk instantly died away. Sharpay silently took her seat and smiled politely to her parents.

"Excellent," Mr. Evans said, smiling warmly at his daughter. "But before we dig in, your mother and I wanted to speak to both of you."

Mrs. Evans smiled approvingly at her husband, determinedly avoiding eye-contact with either of her children. Of course, this wasn't entirely new behavior from her so Sharpay didn't think twice about it.

"It seems that I've had a strain of bad luck, as of late. Most importantly, the activity in my offshore account has been ever so slightly more than conspicuous and it seems as though it may be getting investigated soon. Now, I don't want either of you to worry," he said quickly in response to the strangled gasps coming from the twins. "Your mother and I have been talking and we've decided this is the perfect opportunity to do something we were never able to do since your conception. We're moving to Ghana!"

"What!" Sharpay burst, unable to control the intense anger that was bubbling up inside of her.

"But, what about our schooling?" Ryan asked.

"Don't think we hadn't thought about that," Mr. Evans responded in an irritatingly calm voice. "We won't be leaving until the first of January. By that point, Ryan, you'll be heading back to New York. And, Sharpay, you can use this time to find a job and an apartment. It shouldn't be too difficult, I would think."

"What? I have a month to find an apartment? How is that even possible?"

Mr. Evans laughed as though his daughter had just told an amusing anecdote and turned to his wife, completely ignoring what Sharpay had actually said. "Shall we dig in?" He asked, rubbing his hands together greedily.

Too angry for words, and rather embarrassed that she seemed to be the only one having trouble with this bit of information, Sharpay jumped up from her seat. Her gaze shifted in amazement past all three of her family members, her mouth trying to form words that refused to come out. But, instead of flying into a rage, Sharpay scooted out from between the chair and table and ran from the room, ran through the hallway, and ran out the front door. She needed air, and quiet. And she needed to get away from all the expectant stares and formal behavior.

She didn't know where she was going, and she didn't know where she'd end up. But anywhere was better than where she had just been.

* * *

"She's just being her typical overly dramatic self," Mrs. Evans said to nobody in particular, for neither Ryan nor Mr. Evans had made any move to follow her. "Just let her be and she'll calm down soon enough."

For a short moment, the three stared at the door that Sharpay had just left through. Then, smiling her painted on smile, Mrs. Evans picked up the carving knife and handed it to her husband.

"Let's dig in!"

* * *

"Gabriella?!" Troy asked in pure shock. "What are you doing here?"

Gabriella fixed Troy with a pointed glare and said serenely, "Your dad ran into my mother at the grocery store. She's on account here in Albuquerque, as you know – "

"Actually, no I didn't know that," Troy interrupted harshly. "It's not like you tell me anything, anymore."

Gabriella rolled her eyes and waved her hand, dismissing his statement as unimportant. "Anyway, I wanted to spend the holiday's in Albuquerque, seeing as it's more of a home to me than any other city had ever been. But our little apartment doesn't exactly have the capacity for a full course Thanksgiving day meal. It seems mom and coach got to talking about this and he invited us over." Then her expression clouded over and an angry gleam appeared in her eyes. "Seeing as we never. Broke. Up." She said the last three words pointedly, reminding Troy that he hadn't told his parents about their little break, either.

That's certainly a mistake he'll never make again.

Troy nodded, keeping his lips tightly shut, then turned and walked out of the room. If Gabriella was going to be here for the meal, he'd have to stay away from her as much as possible. It was the only way to keep conversation civilized.

"Troy? Could you help me set the table?" Mrs. Bolton's voice called from the kitchen.

"Absolutely!" Troy agreed all too quickly. At least this provided him with some form of a distraction.

Grabbing the formal dining ware from the ancient cupboard in their barely used dining room, Troy took the next forty-five minutes to slowly and deliberately place every single piece of glassware and china in its exact perfect position on the dining room table. And it could not be denied, his work was rather impressive.

Unfortunately, people within his home could only be avoided for so long, and dinner had finally reached its final stages of preparation. The food was placed on the table by many helping hands and Troy and his family and Gabriella and her mother all ended up sitting in their chairs around the same table, eating the same food and participating in the same awkward conversation.

Troy just kept his eyes down and did his best not to listen.

* * *

Sharpay walked along the neighborhood streets for what felt like hours. Her feet were hurting and her sweater was no longer effective against the dropping temperature. She hugged her arms around her upper body and hoped that something extraordinary might happen to relieve her from her current life.

But, instead, a buzzing in her pocket interrupted all thought of miracles.

Pulling out her phone, Sharpay looked at the brightly lit screen.

Josh was calling.

Sharpay sighed, hit the silence button, and shoved her phone back in her pocket. Now was definitely not the time. In fact, she hadn't really found the right time for him since her frantic return home after a slightly disastrous end to her weekend at Troy's. She'd tried to avoid all thought of that weekend, though every once in a while a blindingly vivid image would fill her brain and make her cheeks flush.

It was all too much to handle, at the moment.

With a slight shake of her head, Sharpay erased all thought of that weekend from her mind and continued walking.

What was she going to do? She'd never lived on her own before and, frankly, never thought she'd need to. Mom and Dad had always provided her home, her support….her life. And they were just taking that all away?

And, oh my god, she had to get a job. Sharpay fought back the tears that sprung to her eyes. She knew it was common for students her age to hold part-time jobs, and she certainly didn't think less of them for it. She'd just never considered it a possibility for her own life. She had so many other things to focus on, to spend her time doing. How was she going to have any time for anything if she was working?

The thought made her shudder and Sharpay decided that adding this little thought to her increasing list of things not to think about was a good idea. So, instead of planning where she might apply and what she might be comfortable doing, Sharpay focused her attention on a much safer topic. A topic that wasn't from inside her head. She finally spent a moment to figure out where she was.

Sharpay stopped walking and gazed at the houses around her. These houses looked familiar. In fact, she'd been to one of them before. Standing at the base of a driveway, Sharpay looked up at the large house in front of her and gasped as it finally hit her whose house she was standing in front of.

Her first instinct was to turn and run as far and as fast as she could. But that feeling quickly disappeared as another feeling of safety and security washed through her. Without having realized it, Sharpay found herself standing at this houses front door, with her hand reaching out in front of her and her finger pressing on the doorbell.

She waited, holding her breath and listening to the echoes of the doorbell, heard only faintly through the thick oak door. The bell died away and was soon replaced by heavy footsteps, increasing in volume as they approached the door. The lock clicked out of its socket and the handle turned. And just like that the door stood open.

Troy stood in shock for a moment, needing the time to register what he was seeing. He'd spent the past two weeks calling Sharpay obsessively, though she'd ignored every call until he finally seemed to have given up hope. But here she was, standing with her arms rapped tightly around her middle, her shoulders hunched against the cold and her face soiled from her time crying.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, not intending to sound quite so rude.

"I don't know," she responded.

"Oh….Um….Come in!" He finally exclaimed, his manners eluding him until now.

Sharpay took a moment, considering backing out, but it was too late. The door was open and she wanted to enter. With a resolute look on her face, she began to shuffle forward, but a shrill voice from down the hall made her stop cold.

"Troysie?" It called, the voice grating on Sharpay's ears. "Your mother wants to know if you want pie?"

One more second and Gabriella appeared behind Troy's shoulder, her hair perfectly made up and her smile turning into a smirk the second she saw Sharpay. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize we had company," she said, her tone implying the opposite.

Sharpay stood frozen, the look of regret on her face making Troy's stomach clench into knots. Then, Sharpay turned and ran down the steps, cutting across the lawn in order to escape most efficiently.

"Sharpay!" Troy called, about to run after her. But Gabriella grabbed a hold of his arm in what he considered to be an unnecessarily tight grip and pull him back.

"Let her go," she said forcefully. "Take it from a girl, she just needs some time to collect herself." They stood there until the blonde of Sharpay's hair disappeared behind the next house over. Humming a cheerful tune, Gabriella let go of Troy's arm and walked slowly back to the dining room, leaving Troy to stare in confusion at the spot that Sharpay had disappeared.

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Here we are! Yet another installment to this thrilling tale of what seems to be perpetual heartbreak. This chapter is much more introverted than the last chapter, I had some fun typing out the thought processes of Troy and Sharpay.

**I hope you liked it and, as always, let me know in a review!**


	12. The Party

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ATTENTION: There is some vulgar language at the end of this chapter. If you are offended by such words, please let me know and I'll send you a modified version of this chapter.

**Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, but I do own the situations they find themselves in.**

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The Party

Ryan opened his eyes slowly. He wasn't sure how long he'd been awake, if at all. He just knew that it was morning and his body was very sore. But then again, not much was new.

Rolling over onto his side, he groaned and clutched his stomach, hoping that its contents would not insist on coming up. That was the one part he didn't like so much. But it was not enough to make him stop.

Ryan paused taking a deep breath and hoisted himself up into a sitting position where he proceeded to repeat this ritual. Pause, deep breath, hoist self onto feet. Pause, deep breath, take three steps to the dresser.

This is where the routine altered. Upon reaching the dresser, Ryan put his hands onto the surface and leaned most of his weight onto their weak support. He looked into the mirror that was mounted on the wall just in front of his face and studied his appearance. His eyes were sunken in with dark circles outlining their dulled light. His skin was pasty with a gleam of sweat covering the surface, making his angular features shine. His cheeks were thin and sunken in and his hair was dull, less prominent than it had been in high school. Ryan smirked at his reflection, an action that did nothing to improve his appearance, and quickly looked away.

On the surface of his dresser, between his two sweating palms, was a pile of various pills. Not knowing which pill was what and not, anymore, caring, he grabbed two of the pills and popped them in his mouth, swallowing without any need for water.

Though none of their effect could yet be felt, Ryan sighed in contentment. Just knowing that he'd soon stop feeling anything at all relaxed him and allowed him to smile more softly, enabling him to fix his physical appearance for his ever critical family.

* * *

"Morning, Ducky," Mrs. Evans crooned over her tea as Ryan sauntered into the dining room just in time for brunch.

"Morning, Mom," He replied in a similar tone, his eyes bright and his smile radiant.

Sharpay rolled her eyes and hunched her shoulders even further over her toast. Why didn't Ryan seem at all upset about their parents abandoning them? It was almost like he hadn't even been present throughout that entire conversation; like he doesn't remember it.

Ryan stared at the available food on the table for a short moment, a look of nausea flickering across his features, before he reached over Sharpay's plate to grab the tea pot.

"Excuse you," Sharpay mumbled, though she didn't dare say it loud enough for their mother to hear, she just didn't have the energy for that argument.

"So, what are your plans for today?" Mrs. Evans asked Ryan, just as she had every morning before he'd left home for Julliard.

Ryan thought for a moment, seeming to search through his brain for a piece of information that he'd intended to remember.

Surprised by the prolonged silence, Sharapy finally tore her eyes from her plate and looked at Ryan for the first time that morning. Ryan had frozen in place, his tea cup half-way to his mouth, his lips pursed, ready to speak once he knew what he wanted to say. His eyes momentarily went dead and his expression completely blank. Sharpay shuddered. He looked like a corpse; there was absolutely no sign of life in any of his features.

But in that same moment his grin reappeared and the life came back to his eyes. "I almost forgot," he said. "There's a party at U of A that Sharpay and I are going to."

Sharpay balked. What did he just say? And when was she even asked about this?

"That's nice," Mrs. Evans replied. Her attention had already been pulled away from the conversation as she didn't care how Ryan responded. And, unlike her daughter, she hadn't noticed anything odd about his behavior.

Satisfied that their conversation was complete, Mrs. Evans stood up gracefully, swooping down to give her perfect son a kiss on the cheek and said, "Have fun at the movies, ducky."

Sweeping out of the dining room, Mrs. Evans had unknowingly left the room just as a thick layer of contempt was building up around the twins.

"A party? Are you kidding?" Sharpay exploded the second her mother's dressing gown disappeared around the corner.

"Yes and no," Ryan replied calmly, not turning his head to look at his sister.

"What the hell makes you think that I'm even going to go? Not to mention the fact that I was never actually asked?" Her voice reached a hysterical octave on the second question. It was a level that she didn't often allow herself to reach, but her frustration surrounding her brothers' behavior toward her caused her to momentarily lose all control over her emotions.

"Jesus, calm down, Sharpay. I'm not forcing you, you could just not go," Ryan sneered and turned his head to look at her for the first time since he'd arrived home. "Of course you won't."

"Won't what?" Sharpay asked, her breathing heavier than usual as she forced herself to appear calm.

"You won't not go," Ryan shrugged, looking away again as though he couldn't bear to see her any longer. "I know how miserable you are. This party is your one chance to escape from life." Ryan explained calmly, as though this answer were the most obvious thing in the world, then stood with his plate and stepped towards the door. Once he reached its threshold, he turned and said, "be ready by nine," then turned back and walked the rest of the way out of the room.

Sharpay stared at the now empty doorway for a moment, her mouth hanging open as her mind was busy on other things. Of course he knew how miserable she was. She'd been leaving him voicemails all semester. And he was obviously checking them because his mailbox was never full. Sharpay's face burned with humiliation. At some point during the semester she'd forgotten that these messages were actually reaching him, considering he never responded, and she'd stopped editing her stories like she normally would. He knew more about her miseries than she'd ever normally have him know and it seemed as though he wanted to use that against her.

Terrible mistake.

Sharpay looked down at her toast, her stomach cramping uncomfortably and her appetite forgotten. Reaching for her phone, she searched for Josh's number and hit send, an action she'd avoided since her night with….

But if she had to go to a party tonight, she would need back-up.

* * *

The truck rolled to a slow stop in front of a row of houses. They were built so closely, they were almost connected, yet there was a small space in between each that was used to store broken glass bottles and soggy cardboard boxes. The houses were rundown, some of the floors obviously sinking, and long cracks breaking through the poorly constructed plaster. Though, despite this, they were each painted in bright, sonny colors, fooling the eye into thinking that these were nice places to live.

Troy gazed at the house that was obviously the one containing the party. It was the only house with every light on, rows of cars parked in the front lawn and, most telling, the exaggerated pounding of base making the windowpanes shutter. There were a few people out front, each laughing loudly and standing casually with plastic cups in their hands, but the real party crowd was in the back. Rumblings of conversation could just be heard over the music.

Troy turned off the ignition and climbed out of the truck, still staring apprehensively at the party house. He hadn't really wanted to come, but he had allowed himself to be convinced that it would be better than just moping around at home like he'd originally planned.

Just then, Gabriella made an obvious noise of disgust, breaking Troy from his revere, and wrenched her door open. She had been waiting for Troy to rush to her side of the truck and help her out, but he was too busy lost inside his own head. She rolled her eyes, annoyed at his distraction, and stomped around the steaming front of the truck, ending up at his side and instantly grabbing onto his arm. Troy felt the familiar sense of annoyance when Gabriella did this, but he did not have the energy to shrug her off.

-

Sharpay sat forward on the couch, her head resting on her hand, her elbow resting on her knee. She really thought this party would lift her spirits, or at least provide an opportunity to re-bond with her brother. However, as of yet, neither seemed to be happening. Upon arrival, Ryan had disappeared somewhere out back and her constant association with Josh was making her more depressed than ever.

Josh was sitting on the same couch as Sharpay but after realizing that she wasn't interested in paying him any mind he'd soon decided to return the favor. His back was slightly turned to her, and his attention was focused on a leggy girl with hair teased to the sky and a teeny-tiny mini-dress barely covering her assets.

"Yo, Josh! You made it!" Sharpay heard a familiar voice cut through the dull conversations around her, perking her up for at least some second-hand entertainment through eaves-dropping.

"Chad! My man! You weren't at our optional basketball practice yesterday." Josh stood and clasped hands with Chad while simultaneously patting him on the back in what he seemed to think was a manly manner. Forgetting that she was sitting right next to this exchange and could, thus, be heard, Sharpay snorted.

Chad looked at her with a curious expression but didn't say anything, instead opting for a nod of recognition. Turning his attention back to his teammate, Chad and Josh talked about basketball for a few more minutes before Chad excused himself to grab a drink. Josh instantly turned back to the fawning girls that were fluttering around his and Chad's conversation and Sharpay distracted herself with a different conversation. Second-hand entertainment just isn't that entertaining.

"Trouble in paradise?" A voice said, not in continuity with the conversation she'd been listening to.

It took Sharpay a moment to realize that this voice was addressing her directly. She sat up and looked around, blinking, before she realized that Chad was holding out a drink for her. She took it and glanced in Josh's direction as Chad took a seat on top of the homemade, wooden coffee table positioned crookedly in front of the couch.

"More like boredom in paradise," she responded, being sure to keep her voice down so that Josh wouldn't overhear.

Chad nodded, "Yeah, I never took you to be content in just one place for very long."

Sharpay narrowed her eyes and was about to retort with a clever comeback, but was distracted by the couple who just stepped through the front door. Troy stood awkwardly, squinting his eyes to see through the hovering cigarette smoke and crowd of milling bodies, possibly in search of anybody he recognized. His attention was pulled from this search as Gabriella joined him, pulling on his arm and causing his stance to become lopsided.

Sharpay groaned and quickly looked away.

"Maybe I'm wrong," Chad mused, seeing the hurt in Sharpay's eyes and remembering her obsession with his friend in High School. Sharpay fidgeted in her seat for a moment before excusing herself to Chad and standing up, escaping the room and finding refuge in the open air on the back porch.

-

Ryan gazed at the array of pills sitting out on the relatively flat rock. He was sequestered in a private clearing just beyond the back yard of the party house, a few rows of trees blocking their view. There were two other people present, one of whom he'd found out about the party from. They were all quiet, enjoying the dulled thump of the base rustling through the leaves and echoing off of the trees around them.

"What are they?" he asked, indicating the drugs with a wave of his hand. He only mildly cared, as the answer would not persuade him against taking one. He'd really just felt the need to start conversation.

"Nothing too interesting," Kelsi responded, speaking through a puff of smoke that she finished exhaling at the end of her sentence. "This is Albuquerque, after all. Most of it's from my Gran's medicine cabinet…so…I don't know. I guess there're some blood-thinners, probably some painkillers. She's really sick, you know." She giggled maniacally, throwing her hand holding the cigarette out wildly, almost lighting the third persons hair on fire. "Something in there is really strong, I can tell you that," she said, laughing some more and appearing to have trouble holding herself upright.

"Cool," Ryan responded, reaching down and picking the big, oval-shaped pill and popping it into his mouth. "Cool," he said again, a huge grin on his face as he pulled out a fresh cigarette from the half-empty carton in his back pocket.

-

"TROY!"

Troy looked into the crowd before him, searching for the body belonging to the voice. Over by the mess of couches to his left, he saw his best friend from High School jumping up onto a tattered coffee table, a plastic cup in his hand, the other waving at him high in the air.

"CHAD!"

Leaving Gabriella at the door, Troy rushed over to his friend in excitement. They'd seen each other in short intervals throughout the semester, mostly with basketball related encounters, but they hadn't had a chance to really catch up. Troy was surprised by his own rush of happiness at this chance to reconnect, but it didn't bother him. It was the same way he had felt when he saw Sharpay for the first time in the coffee shop; as though all his worries and anxieties had just melted away and there was nobody to live for except himself. The two boy's embraced comfortably and quickly began laughing and joking with each other as though they had never stopped, easily picking up where they had last started off.

The party continued on around them, but they were so deep in memories they didn't bother to notice. Gabriella hung around Troy's side for a while, nervously shuffling back and forth before she decided that she'd had enough of waiting. Venturing out on her own she found the kitchen where the bulk of the alcohol was located. Helping herself, she grabbed a blue plastic cup and poured herself a hefty amount of vodka and cranberry juice.

Taking a big gulp of her drink, Gabriella refilled the cup before she walked away, surveying the crowd and nodding to familiar faces. Yes, she was comfortable at parties, as long as the cup was always in her hand

-

"….and I just don't think that school's my thing. I think I'm gonna keep working at my job, see where that leads."

"You have a job?" Sharpay asked, her interest peaked as she remembered the small, life changing fact that she needed to find a job.

The small group of boys that were talking all turned and stared at her in confusion. She had forgotten that she wasn't actually participating in this conversation before now, considering she had never been invited to join. But she shrugged off the strange looks and stared intently at the boy who had been speaking. The boy who looked vaguely familiar. "Where do you work?" she continued, hoping to get some good ideas from him.

The boy shifted his eyes from side to side before answering, "Leonard Tire and Auto Repair."

"Oh," Sharpay responded in disappointment. There was no way in hell she'd work there, whether she had the knowledge to or not. No, that wasn't going to work. She looked down, deep in thought and extracting herself from the conversation once more. She turned and wandered away slowly, faintly overhearing the next line in their conversation.

"So, Jason, you really quit?...."

Sharpay stepped back inside the house, placing her empty plastic cup on the nearest available surface and, feeling happier now that the alcohol had gone straight to her head, searched out Josh, secretly hoping that Troy would be near enough to witness.

-

Ryan wandered slowly over the backyard lawn, trying to approach the house. That is a difficult task, though, when the house keeps disappearing. Or is he just closing his eyes? He can never tell, the two happen so often. Taking another step, he stumbled over the long tail of a sleeping dragon, waking the beast and causing him to shoot fiery hot flames onto Ryan's hands.

"Sorry," Ryan mumbled, afraid to anger the dragon more. "Sorry, Mr. Dragon."

He started to laugh, realizing that he was being ridiculous. Of course, the dragon wouldn't understand him; he only speaks French!

Finally, after a long trek through the magical kingdom of Rock 'n' Roll, Ryan reached his destination. It only took slaying a dragon, traveling on foot for thirteen years, and an intensely parched mouth, as the gods forbade him to drink water ever again.

But now he'd finally reached the three steps onto the porch of the party house. Three big steps, that only took him a few extra tries to successfully climb.

Ryan laughed, again, seeing all the admiring faces of his fans, watching his every move. He found the door, narrowed his eyes and focused really hard in order to get it to stop moving. He then reached his hand out quickly, needing to grab hold of the handle before it started dancing again and yanked it open, allowing him access to the inside of the house.

"Shar?" he called, sensing that his sister was near. Suddenly, an overwhelming fear washed through him. He didn't know if it was because of the dragon that had come back to life just outside the door, or because he wasn't sure what, if any of this, was real.

"Shar?" he called again, his voice rising in panic.

He stumbled into the room where the most people were and tore through the crowd, all the while shouting her name and glancing behind him to be sure he wasn't being followed. "SHAR!"

Then he saw her, standing on the coffee table, arms wrapped tightly around Josh's neck. "What the hell are you doing?" he asked, though it was only in a whisper. He stared, astounded. Was she just letting him eat her face? He watched as her skin was being ripped away from the bones, revealing squirmy, oozing maggots. Shaking his head, he refocused his eyes and realized that her skin was still attached and she seemed to be enjoying herself.

The sound of a door slamming echoed through his brain, and Ryan vaguely registered the fact that Troy had just stormed out of the house, likely disgusted with Sharpay's behavior.

"STOP IT!" Ryan screamed, his fear being pushed aside to accommodate his overwhelming anger. "JESUS, FUCK! Just STOP, SHARPAY!"

Ryan ran forward and grabbed Sharpay's arm, pulling her off of the table and out of Josh's arms. She lost balance and came tumbling down, hitting her head on the couch and crashing onto the floor.

"Fuck! Sharpay!" he continued to yell, now staring down at her from his position atop the arm of the couch. "Why is the whole world about you? What the Fuck are you even Doing here? And with HIM?" Ryan gestured wildly in Josh's general direction.

"Ryan?" Sharpay asked, fear and confusion clear in her tone.

"You're such a whore! I HATE you so much! You take EVERYTHING from me! Just….fuck….just leave me the fuck alone. I wish you'd just – "

But Sharpay never found out what he "wished she'd just" because at that very moment his eye's rolled into the back of his head, revealing only the bloodshot white's as his knees buckled and he fell to the floor in an almost graceful way, landing lifelessly on top of Sharpay's still outstretched legs.

"Ryan?" Sharpay asked, her voice more easily heard as the other party goers halted their own conversations to watch.

Tears sprung to her eyes, "Ryan?" she asked with more panic evident in her voice. She shook her legs, trying to rouse her brother by force. He didn't move, his heavy weight a burden to her both physically and emotionally.

Somebody turned the music off and a deadly silence fell over the house. Sharpay tried to shake Ryan awake one more time before absolute terror took over her entire being and she let out a blood-curdling scream.

**

* * *

**

Well, you guys wanted to know what was up with Ryan. There ya' go. I had started the chapter intending his behavior to be kind of funny, but then it got real and that's not so funny.

**I don't have much to say about this chapter. I'm more interested in what you have to say about it. So please let me know, even if it's criticism. It's all appreciated.**


	13. The Hospital Room

**Disclaimer: Do Not Own.**

The Hospital Room

Sharpay glanced at the windowpane that was built into the door of the hospital room. Not much could be seen through the small space but any little movement seemed enough to catch her attention.

With a sigh, Sharpay slumped back into the rough fabric of the hospital room chair and fidgeted, trying to find a position comfortable enough to remain in. After a few minutes of noisy shuffling, she resigned herself to the fact that there was no way she would ever be comfortable. And maybe that was the intention. What gives her the right to be comfortable when her brother was lying beneath the crisp, starchy white sheets of the hospital bed, IV bags flowing fluids back into his system after having his stomach pumped by the paramedics?

Suddenly the hot sting of tears burned in Sharpay's eyes as the feeling of rage that she'd been so desperately fighting to smother flamed inside her chest. Her entire body tensed up as she performed the very same exercises she needed for the stage in order to smother this anger and replace it with remorse.

Except, why was she even trying? She has a right to be mad at Ryan! The bastard dropped her the second he went off to school and got himself into a right mess. And instead of coming to her for the help that he so obviously needed, he was cold to her; he just shut her out. It was like he resented her, as if she was the reason his life took this direction.

Sharpay rolled her eyes and crossed her arms defensively. The sequins on her tank top scratched at her skin and she wished that she had gone home to get a change of clothing. Everything had just happened so fast, she was not even sure quite how the sequence of events played out.

By the time she had stopped screaming somebody had moved Ryan's body off of hers, freeing her to kneel by her brother's side. Looking at his face, all she saw were his dead eyes. They stared up at the ceiling, wide in shock but completely unseeing.

She wished she knew who had been calm enough during the entire ordeal to call the ambulance, but she didn't. All she could remember were those dead eye's as they were hoisted onto the stretcher; the dead eye's staring at the roof of the ambulance truck; the dead eyes being wheeled away from her as they were rushed into the emergency room.

Sharpay glanced back at the small windowpane in the hospital room door as the tail of a lab coat fluttered out of site.

What the hell was Ryan thinking getting into drugs?? The moron always did have trouble making his own decisions; some asshole obviously took advantage of him.

Sharpay shuttered as various images of coked out dealers cornering Ryan in a dark alleyway in New York City flooded her brain.

Sharpay closed her eyes and shook her head, trying to physically remove the thoughts from her brain. Just think nothing….nothing at all. She hummed a tuneless song softly to herself and focused all her attention on the darkness created by her closed eyelids.

"Sharpay, sit up straight. That is not a flattering pose for your body type." Sharpay started out of her meditation at the sound of her disapproving mother.

"Mother," she greeted coldly, refusing to shift positions if only to irritate the woman.

"I'm so sorry I couldn't make it in sooner, honey. Your father's work party was just so successful. The wait staff was positively raving about the elegance of it all. And, of course, I got here as quickly as I could once that was done and I'd cleaned myself up. So, how is he doing?"

Sharpay rolled her eyes, "Could be dead by now, for all you seem to care," she muttered, only half hoping that her mother could hear her.

But Mrs. Evans nodded distractedly and started digging through her purse, her phone ringing incessantly in the hushed room. After pulling out and dumping onto the same bed that her unconscious son was laying her overstuffed Louis Vuitton wallet, scads of make-up and a pile of paper-clipped receipts, she finally seemed to have located her phone. Pulling it out, Mrs. Evans glanced at the flashing screen and sighed dramatically, "I knew they wouldn't be able to clean up without my help. What is it Carlos?"

Waving at her daughter and flashing a toothy grin, Mrs. Evans started barking orders into the phone, describing where each individual piece of newly polished tableware belonged to Carlos as she backed out of the hospital room and left, never having actually spent any quality time with her son.

* * *

Troy walked swiftly through the hallways, his sneakers squeaking on the waxed, tile floor. His mind seemed to be racing, yet it kept returning to the same thought. _'I hope she isn't alone'_.

Finding the hallway that he'd been searching for, Troy's heart skipped a beat as he slowed his pace, looking deliberately at each room number. He knew it was up ahead, but he suddenly felt as though he was walking through a marsh, his feet sinking into the floor making it difficult to move.

"Ugh…Troy…Slow down!" Gabriella huffed behind him. She had insisted on wearing her four inch heals, though she had yet to learn how to walk in them.

Troy ignored her, seeing as he had already slowed his pace to a crawl and shook her hand off of his arm. He hadn't been expecting her to come, but Gabriella was quick to remind him that she'd actually befriended Ryan first. Unable to argue with this logic, Troy had merely shrugged and unlocked the passenger side door. He wasn't really visiting Ryan anyways.

Taking a deep breath, Troy finally grasped the cold, medal doorknob and turned, pushing in and taking one step inside the room. His eyes instantly found Sharpay, leaning back in her chair, her arms crossed over her chest and her eyes closed serenely. At the sound of his arrival, she jerked herself upright and wrenched her eyes open expectantly. It took her three blinks before she seemed to realize who was standing there, her face falling as her body settled back into the same position it had been in before he arrived.

"I thought you were my mother," she said quietly, closing her eyes once more, though Troy was almost certain there was a hint of a smile on her face.

"Oh," was all Troy could manage to say.

"Oh for heaven's sake, step inside the damn room Troy!"

Gabriella, fed up with standing behind Troy and waiting for him to clear the doorway, pushed him a few inches to the side so that she could squeeze her way through. Troy's irritation with her increased tenfold and it took him a three deep breaths to steady himself, effectively hiding his emotions once more.

Sharpay, on the other hand, did not even try to hide hers. Her eyes were opened and glaring at Gabriella, her arms still crossed, though her posture much more rigid.

"Gabriella," Sharpay breathed, monotone.

"Oh, chill, Sharpay. Troy and I are just here to visit your brother. You know, he was _our_ friend in High School," Gabriella said, her tone challenging.

"Whatever," Sharpay replied coolly.

Troy's shoulders drooped. He knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that this last exchange with Gabriella destroyed any chance he may have had with rekindling any sort of connection with Sharpay. He was really hoping he'd be able to at least find out how she was doing; he knew this wasn't easy for her.

Shifting his eyes away from Sharpay's angry glare, Troy instead focused on Ryan. He looked so small; so pale. Troy cursed himself for leaving the party, wishing that he had been there when the entire event took place. He wished he could do anything to ease Sharpay's burden.

But her icy mask had slipped into place the moment Gabriella stepped into the room and not even he would be able to break through it.

Stepping back, Troy wished he could blend into the wall. This was stupid. Pointless. Why hadn't he left sooner, before Gabriella noticed what he was doing? He watched, as if he were not a participant, as Gabriella spoke to Ryan's still form, melodramatically promising the world if Ryan would just wake up. He watched Sharpay's visage grow darker and angrier, her limbs folding tighter around her body as she glared at her former classmate.

Of course, it was merely minutes before Gabriella got bored with talking to an unresponsive body and excused herself from the room.

The subtle click of the door into its frame seemed to rouse Sharpay. Piercing Troy with her glare she finally spoke.

"What are you even doing here?"

Troy balked. "What am _I_ doing here? Are you kidding me with this? I was concerned about you! I was…I just wanted to make sure you were alright!"

Sharpay scoffed and rolled her eyes. "I'm fine," she said forcefully. "You don't need to bother worrying yourself about me. In fact, I'm better than fine. I'm great."

"Great," Troy said darkly, angry with how this trip was turning out. "That's just great. I'm glad you're so great with how things turned out with us." Laughing bitterly, Troy crossed his arms and turned away, mostly to hide the emotions on his face that were only betraying him.

"When did this become a discussion about us? When was there ever even an _us_? I get that you're back with Gabriella, you don't need to keep shoving it in my face, you know."

"Gabriella and I are _not_ back together," Troy said quietly, his tone eerily steady. "Besides, who are you to talk? You and Josh never even separated. Does he even know what we did when you visited me?...No…I bet he didn't even know you were with me."

Sharpay stared at Troy, her eyes hard and her mouth set. She looked like she wanted to respond, like it was taking every ounce of her little remaining strength to resist but Gabriella had just reappeared at the doorway and was now entering the room.

"Troy?" she whined. "I'm hungry. Can't we go now?"

Troy didn't shift his glare away from Sharpay's equally angry face as he responded, "Sure, Gabs. Let's go."

Without even bothering to hold the door for Gabriella, Troy turned and yanked the heavy metal door out of its frame and stalked out of the room. As the door shut slowly behind him he thought he heard somebody angrily say, "Great. Just go."

* * *

Sharpay flung herself back into her chair and sighed. She couldn't tell if she was still angry or overwhelmingly depressed. All she knew was that her chest felt constricted, as if an iron lung was encasing her own and squeezing the life out of them. Her breathing felt labored and her heart was racing. But at least the fight was over. She'd known it would happen eventually. Seemed inevitable, really. And it was probably better this way. At least now Sharpay would be sure that Troy wouldn't be able to hurt her like he did in High School. Like all those jerks did. No, it is definitely better to cut everybody out and start fresh.

Maybe it's time she gave Josh a call. She'd been rather cold to him lately. But if she were starting fresh, at least he is a new friend she can _keep_ in her life. Whether that's a good thing or not is still to be decided.

"What was that all about?"

It took Sharpay a moment to realize that the voice was coming outside of her own head, her thoughts so consuming her, she'd blocked out the real world. Looking up she was shocked to see Chad Danforth standing just inside the hospital room doorway.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, not meaning to sound quite as accusing as she did.

Chad didn't seem to notice the confrontational tenor in her voice. "Just wanted to stop by. Make sure you were both doing ok," he shrugged. "Of course, I thought that your brother would be the cause of all the upset, but it looks like Troy's stolen that role too."

"Wait a minute," Sharpay shook her head in confusion, trying to focus all her attention on the present. "I thought you and Troy were still friends."

Chad stepped over to the empty chair positioned next to Sharpay's in the room and sat down quietly. "We are! I mean, I love the dude…Like a brother…but sometimes his timing is absolutely horrendous."

Not fully understanding Chads point, but not wanting to explore the topic further, Sharpay nodded and turned her attention to her sleeping brother. She crossed her fingers that Chad would take the hint and leave their conversation well enough alone.

They sat in empty silence for a couple minutes, Sharpay lost in her thoughts once more as Chad tapped his leg uncomfortably and stared at the slowly ticking clock. However, unable to bear the uncomfortable silence any longer, Chad finally said, "So…You've been here all night, huh?"

Sharpay returned her gaze to the boy, her expression muted, a hint of a smile on her lips. "Of course," she replied, surprise in her tone.

Chad nodded.

"You know, Sharpay, I had you figured all wrong in high school."

"How do you mean?" Sharpay asked, only half paying attention to the conversation as she watched Ryan stir in his sleep, showing some sign of life for the first time all morning.

"I don't know. I guess I'd always thought of you as some spoiled, privileged rich kid who didn't care for anybody but herself and never had to."

Chad cringed, afraid he'd gone too far in poking the sleeping bear, as it were. But Sharpay neither recoiled, nor struck with any sort of fury. She simply snorted with short lived laughter and mumbled more to herself, "That is the furthest thing from the truth right now."

"How so?" Chad asked, truly curious.

Sharpay took a deep breath and contemplated lying. This was a secret she had intended to keep close, though she hadn't yet figured out how to accomplish such a thing. Maybe it was her current state of vulnerability, or maybe she just felt like she could trust Chad, but something in that short moment of contemplation convinced her to be straightforward. And so, she spoke in a quiet voice as she calmly recounted her parents announcement to the twins on Thanksgiving. Explaining how she had no place to live, no job and soon no family to lean on.

Chad contemplated the situation for a moment, his brows furrowed and his mind searching. "You need a job, huh? I might be able to help you with that."

Sharpay stared at him in surprise, "Help?....Me?" she stuttered.

Chad nodded solemnly, but said, "I've got to go now, though. I'll get back to you about that, see what I can do and all." He stood quickly, clearly uncomfortable with the affectionate direction this conversation had taken and shuffled quickly to the door. Grasping the handle, he opened the door and took one step through but paused before he had cleared the frame. Turning back, he glanced at Sharpay's surprised expression and took in the party clothes she was still dressed in. "Do you want me to bring you a change of clothes?"

Sharpay smiled and glanced at her own attire. "Thanks, but… I'm fine."

Chad nodded, turned and stepped into the hallway, allowing the slowly closing door to swallow his image and leave Sharpay in the ringing silence of the hospital room once more.

**

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**

Hello all! So, I have some sad news: school starts soon… But that's actually good news for you because it means I'll have fewer reasons to not post a chapter on time!

**So, I bought clothes online the other day and the company sent them to me twice. I'm having a major struggle with morality right now because, as a poor student, this is quite the gift from God….but it's also completely unethical for me to keep them…**

**Ah, what to do?**

**Anyway, that had absolutely nothing to do with my story. But, please leave me a comment! On anything you wish to comment about…**


	14. Back to the Beginning

**Disclaimer: See every chapter previous to this**

Back to the Beginning

"Well, Troy, your blood-work came back fine. You are slightly anemic, but that is normal in boys your age. Perhaps drink more water in order to lessen the lethargy that may occur." The doctor nodded at his own statement and paused, glancing at his notes written in unreadable handwriting on legal paper clipped inside Troy's file. "We've also examined the results from the heart monitor, there don't seem to be any abnormalities there either."

Troy stared at him. They were sitting in the very bland space that functioned as his doctors' office. The walls were white and the window was small with empty curtain hooks perched expectantly above the frame. The desk was scantily decorated, the only sign that proved this was a working office were the stacks of manila file folders piled dangerously high in rows on the table behind the doctors chair.

"So, there's nothing wrong with me?" Troy asked in shock.

"Nothing medically," The doctor confirmed, gazing at Troy over his steepled fingertips.

"So…what's wrong with me?"

The doctor continued to gaze at Troy, his eyes seeming to read Troy's mind. He paused and narrowed his eyes, taking in a deep breath and measuring his words carefully. "_Is_ there something wrong with you?"

Troy thought about his past semester at school and how he'd changed. How everybody had changed. _Is there something wrong with me??_

"Son, I have reason to believe that these symptoms you are complaining of may be emotionally stimulated. You have recently gone through a big move coming here to school and many things that had previously been normal are now turned on their head. Before I release you with a clean bill of health, I think it would be prudent for you to attend a few counseling sessions, see if we can figure out some things that chemicals can't."

"So…you think I need to see a shrink." Troy nodded though he hadn't fully digested the suggestion.

"No, I just think you need somebody to talk to."

* * *

Sharpay took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. This has to be done. Almost every college student does this, it is nothing to be ashamed of. Just pretend you are hungry to experience the college lifestyle.

She wrapped her shawl tightly around her shoulders, warding off the cold breeze and stepped out of her car onto the cracked and unkempt cement of the Desert Creek Apartment Complex parking lot.

Moving carefully on her conservative Kenneth Cole kitten heals, Sharpay crossed the parking lot and climbed the splintered wood of the handicap ramp to the front door of the management office.

She knocked three times, crossing her fingers that nobody answered. But almost as if he were waiting on the other side of the door, the manager of Desert Creek swung the door open dramatically and beckoned her inside.

"Enter, my dear girl, enter." He said loudly, gesturing to a chair in which Sharpay assumed she was meant to sit. She eyed the ripped fabric and protruding stuffing with distaste and deigned to remain on her feet.

"You have wonderful timing, Ms. Evans." The manager, Marcus according to his nameplate, continued.

"do I?" she couldn't help the trace of contempt that had risen in her tone.

"After our conversation on the phone, I took a look at what I had available and an apartment exactly to your specifications will be available."

Sharpay narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "Exactly to my specifications?" she repeated. "It just so happened to become available?"

"Oh, alright, you squeezed it out of me." Marcus said, drooping his shoulders in a magnificent show of defeat while a conspiratorial glint showed in his eye. "I liked our conversation so much, and your application seemed so desperate, I lowered the price of an apartment that is becoming available in December. But don't tell anybody about this, I don't want hoards of tenants knocking down my door because of it." He said with a wink.

Sharpay nodded her head, understandingly, though her suspicions were not completely abated.

"So!" Marcus said, perking up and clapping his hands together excitedly. "Do you want to see an apartment?"

Sharpay nodded vigorously. "Absolutely." She might as well know what kind of hell is awaiting her.

Marcus quickly grabbed the large ring of keys off of his immaculate desk and ushered Sharpay out the door.

"Right over here," he said, indicating toward a building set apart from the rest.

"Now, your apartment is on the ground floor so you're going to want to be careful about your windows. Drunk guys at nighttime tend to not like using doors."

Sharpay stumbled on a loose pebble and flailed her arms involuntarily to regain her balance, "They what?"

But Marcus was a few steps ahead of her and she couldn't be sure that he even heard her question. He just quickened his pace, apparently excited to show off her knew home.

"Now, you'll have two keys," he explained as he took one key from his giant ring of keys. "Wait, oops, not that one." Jiggling the key in the lock for a moment, Marcus decided he'd pulled out the wrong one and set to searching through the mass once again. "Aha, that's right. Green for outer doors unless in M or J."

Sharpay stood confused, staring at Marcus as though he were speaking in alien tongues.

"There we are!" He trilled, finally swinging the door open. "Now, you'll have two keys. One is a master key for the building, it'll open this door to allow you into the hallway," he led Sharpay down a musty smelling hallway. The carpets were a plain brown color with many suspicious stains and the walls had been white at one point but were now a pealing yellowish color. The ceilings were poorly smoothed plaster with some watermarks distorting the shape and only one exposed light bulb was actually working.

"The other key," Marcus continued, not seeming to notice the level of disrepair his apartment complex seemed to be in, "is for your front door. You're going to want to be sure to bolt your deadlock because the door lock doesn't work. And, if I remember correctly, yours is one of the apartments where the door can just be pushed open, the doorknob being slightly unnecessary."

Sharpay didn't know if she should be more appalled at the lack of security for her apartment or at the fact that this is common for many of the apartments in her complex. Either way, she made a mental note to buy a chain lock to install.

Marcus went through the same ritual he'd just performed at the entrance to the building, pulling out his key ring, muttering to himself, trying a few keys and finally gaining access to the apartment.

"Voila!" he exclaimed, throwing his arm out wide and beaming with pride. "Welcome to your future apartment!"

Sharpay took a cautious step through the doorway and stood in the empty room, completely horrorstruck. The wall paint was peeling and discolored, the carpet was stained and there was an unidentifiable odor that seemed to emanate from the walls themselves.

"So, what do you think?" Marcus asked, his excitement wavering as he watched her silent reaction.

"Um…Well…Where's the rest of it?"

Marcus laughed, throwing his head back and allowing his entire body to shake from the effort. "Good one," he sighed, finally calming down enough to speak as he wiped his eyes from the involuntary tears that had squeezed out. "Good one, given the deal you got."

Sharpay smiled uncertainly, still looking around with distaste.

"So what do you really think?" Marcus pressed.

"Oh," Sharpay stopped, finally jerking her attention out of her own head and realizing the kind of response that Marcus was looking for. She quickly pulled some sincerity into her smile and changed her body energy from reserved to bursting with excitement as she gushed, "Oh, Marcus, It's absolutely perfect!" She then turned her back, pretending to inspect the kitchen so that Marcus wouldn't see her eye's rolling.

The apartment turned out to have one bedroom, five steps down the hallway. A bedroom that was roughly the size of her closet back home. And the kitchen and common room were almost indistinguishable from each other. The bathroom had mold and the refrigerator seemed to be leaking water. But it was going to be her home soon. And despite the level of disgusting it seemed to be at, Sharpay still felt a glimmer of pride growing in her chest at the fact that she would have a place all her own. A place that she alone was responsible for. A place that would never be tainted by the rest of the Evans family.

* * *

Troy sat in the overly colored waiting room of the therapists office. He felt as though all the color was meant to brighten him, and the rest of the patients, up but it just ended up irritating him. Pink cushions? In a doctors office? Really??

He'd been waiting in this room for forty-five minutes. He'd had to miss basketball practice because of it. And he was not happy about any of this.

"Troy Bolton?"

A blond assistant with her hair in a high pony tail stuck her head around the door.

Troy contemplated not answering, but decided that would cause more trouble than it was worth. At least this way he could get it all over and done with. Just say what the doctor wants to hear and leave with that elusive 'clean bill of health'.

Without saying anything, he stood from his seat with a sigh and shuffled toward the assistant and the doctor's room.

If he'd thought the waiting room was colorful, then this was a freakin' rainbow. All four walls were painted a different shade of yellow, the couches (yes, multiple) were purple, green and blue and the different cushions and plants and paintings set up strategically around the room were each bursting with their own color scheme. It was enough to give Troy an instant headache.

"Welcome, Troy," an airy voice said from somewhere in the middle of the room. There was so much going on in the room that it took Troy a couple minutes to be able to distinguish the doctor from the decorations.

"Please, have a seat anywhere." Dr. Gibson was a petite woman with long dark hair. She didn't wear the typical professional attire that Troy expected. She had on a suit but it was cream colored. Her shirt underneath the suit was bright red and she had a flowery scarf tied around her neck. Her oversized headband was also red and the pen that she presumably used to take notes was decorated with large peacock feathers glued to the end of it.

Troy took a few more timid steps into the room and sat down cautiously on the blue couch. Dr. Gibson immediately started writing something in her Mickey Mouse shaped notebook.

"So, Troy. Tell me about yourself."

"Umm…" Troy hesitated. ""Well, what do you want to know?"

"About yourself," Dr. Gibson repeated, writing something down in her notebook.

"Well…My name's Troy Bolton. I'm from Albuquerque, New Mexico, and now I'm going to school at Berkeley." Troy tried to keep everything as plain and boring as he could. There was no way he was going to make this easy for Dr. Crazy.

"What made you choose to come to this university?" Dr. Crazy…Gibson…asked.

"My girlfriend," Troy answered automatically.

"Interesting…" Dr. Gibson hummed, writing frantically in her notebook.

"I mean, they have a great basketball program, too. That was – obviously – a factor. And the drama department…" Troy trailed off cursing himself for answering the question honestly.

"Tell me about your girlfriend," Dr. Gibson prompted, not giving away any of her own thoughts on what Troy was telling her.

"Ex…girlfriend," Troy corrected sheepishly. "We, sort of, broke up."

"Sort of?"

"Well, I mean, we were on a break. But then she had thanksgiving with us and…well…I don't really know what's going on."

"What do you _want_ to be going on?"

"Well, I want to be with–" Troy cut himself off before he could finish the sentence. Dr. Gibson had this weird ability to make him say something before he'd even thought about it. Something, in this case, that he didn't even know was true until it was said aloud. But he couldn't say this one out loud. He couldn't say it because he couldn't bear to make it true. "I mean, I want us to be like we used to be."

"Right," Dr. Gibson nodded, fixing Troy with a curious glance. "And how was that?"

"Happy," Troy answered, again speaking before he thought about the consequences. "I mean, both of us happy. I mean, spending time together and talking about our plans for the future."

"You know, Troy," Dr. Gibson said, her brows furrowed with a masked expression on her face. "I think we need to make this a weekly meeting."

Shit. Troy's heart sank as he internally berated himself. It's all these damn colors. They disarm you. Make you speak the truth no matter how messed up it makes you look.

Troy crossed his arms defiantly and Dr. Gibson wrote something down in her notebook. This was going to be a long session…

* * *

Sharpay stood in her closet staring at her hoards of clothing. How was all of this going to fit in her apartment? And she wondered how many kitchen appliances and pieces of furniture she could take from home without her parents noticing or caring. The coffee pot for sure she'd have to take. And some utensils and cookware. She might have to settle for plastic plates and cups. It was tacky, but it's not like anybody would see it. Sharpay's eyes fell on a few bolts of fabric she had lying in the corner and suddenly her mind started reeling with ways to decorate (read: cover up) the hideously ugly apartment. She might even be able to make it look cute. She just has to remember to smuggle some curtain rods out of the house.

Of course, she'd have to find a really good hiding…erm, storage…space for all this stuff until her move-in date.

Just then, the sound of her phone ringing interrupted her stream of excited thought and brought her crashing back to reality. Running back into her bedroom, Sharpay grabbed the phone off of the bed and glanced at the display. It was Chad. Who knew she even had his number programmed into her phone?

Pressing the green button, Sharpay placed the phone to her ear and answered, "Hello?"

"Hey, um, Sharpay?" and awkward male voice, undeniably Chad's, said from the other end.

"Yeah?"

"Hey, it's Chad."

Normally this would be occasion for Sharpay to roll her eyes, but since she and Chad were starting anew, she decided she found the exchange humorous. "I know," she laughed.

"Oh, right. Of course. Ok, well, I was just calling to let you know that I talked to my boss and he said you have an interview tomorrow at four. Bring your resume and, obviously, dress nice. But I think you've got a pretty good shot."

Sharpay breathed a sigh of relief, "Thanks, Chad. Thanks so much. You're a total life saver."

"No problem."

"Chad? Can I ask you one more favor?"

"Sure, what is it?"

"How much extra space do you have in your garage?"

**

* * *

**

Funny story: On the first day of my Sports Marketing class we had to go around the room and play that stupid introduction game that all professors think is fun. The kid next to me: his name was Troy and his interesting fact was that he turned down a full ride to one school to follow his girlfriend to our school and it turned out to be the biggest mistake of his life.

**I thought it was rather ironic.**

**So, some friends and I went on our traditional end of summer road-trip. Good fun, less like running away this time. But it's back to real life. And schedules. And updating stories ;)**

**I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. Please Review!**


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